


Carving Yourself a Space

by Shortsnout



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Adorable Connor, Aftermath of Violence, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Connor, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gavin Reed Being an Asshole, Hank Anderson Swears, Hank Anderson is Bad at Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injury Recovery, Jealous Hank Anderson, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Hank Anderson, Top Hank Anderson, Wire Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:02:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 55,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27660418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shortsnout/pseuds/Shortsnout
Summary: After the android revolution, Hank finds himself with a new roommate and a new friend. Knowing his feelings are less than platonic, he carefully navigates through the unexplored feelings between himself and Connor, hoping this isn’t a one-sided thing.When Connor gets an upgrade allowing him to feel, the line between them blurs even further, making Hank question just how one-sided his feelings are. After murdered androids start appearing with their limbs and parts missing, Josh is sent by Jericho to help smooth tensions between androids and humans. Jealous and stressed by Connor’s case, an innocent statement from Josh sends him into a drunken, rage-filled tailspin, and Hank inadvertently destroys any chance they have at a relationship. Question is, can Hank repair their relationship? Does Connor even want him too?
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 44
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, I hope you enjoy reading my very first Detroit: Become Human fanfiction. As some of you are aware, I am a British writer and while I have endeavoured to make my pieces set in United States sound as American as possible some British idioms and words for things may slip through. Sorry if you find any!
> 
> I have taken a little bit of artistic licence in regards to the DPD station and added a few more floors to the building, but otherwise, the setting remains the same as the game.

** Chapter 1  **

‘Pass us the box would ya?’ Hank demanded, not taking his eyes off his monitor as he blindly patted the desk in front of him, knocking over empty coffee cups.

‘Something wrong with your legs?’ Connor asked.

‘Come on, help a guy out? I’ve nearly finished this report, just need a little pick me up, you know?’

‘And the last two doughnuts were what? Precursors to this sugar fix?’ Connor sighed, stretching over to place the box in Hank’s greedy hands.

Biting into the stale doughnut with a groan, he stretched his neck from side to side, wincing at the stiffness of his shoulders.

‘Do you want some help with your work?’ Connor tilted his head in Hank’s direction, his hands on the keyboard not actually typing as he interfaced with his terminal.

‘Nah, I’m nearly done.’ Shoving the rest of the doughnut in his mouth, he brushed the sugar from his fingers onto the floor, watching as Connor rolled back his chair and got to his feet. Hank fought down the small smile on his face as Connor walked across the room to Chris, who encouraged the android to sit down beside him.

He’d come so far in the last three months.

Squashing the feelings of pride, Hank finished his report and shut down his monitor for the night, stretching his arms above his head. Technically, Connor wasn’t his partner anymore, Fowler had assigned him to android-related crimes the moment he’d stepped back into the DPD with Hank after the aftermath of the revolution.

The department had created a space for Connor to work at on the floor above, but he was usually found working on the desk opposite Hank, more comfortable with the humans he’d worked with before the revolution. No one challenged him on it, probably understanding the need to be in familiar surroundings when the world was in an uproar.

Connor acted as the general dogsbody of the homicide department, the DPD’s PM700s and PC200s having left, swamping them with work. Connor never complained, completed all his efficiently while helping them with their backlog of cases. When Detroit had been evacuated there had been an inevitable increase in crime, and it felt like it was only now, twelve weeks later, that they were beginning to make a dent in the cases.

Hank jerked from his thoughts as Chris laughed at something Connor had said to him, gesturing to his terminal and waiting until Connor interfaced with it. Standing, he stretched his spine, waiting for it to pop before he shrugged his jacket on.

The darker reason he suspected Connor liked to stay within their department was one neither of them wanted to admit. The public might’ve been all for equal rights and opportunities, but that didn’t mean all humans thought that. Hank had seen the graffiti on the walls, had recognised the slurs from his own anti-android stickers.

It was only a matter of time before there was an android related death.

Hank wanted to protect Connor from it all, to shield him from all the evils in the world. He’d already gone through so much, facing his own death multiple times to secure freedom for his people, struggling to be seen as a sentient form of life. Even if the revolution was over the battle for their independence would still take years.

The government still hadn’t got their act together, which meant Connor was essentially working for free. Resentment over the treatment of Connor gripped him by the throat, a feeling he’d become used to in the last few weeks, accompanied by guilt that he couldn’t fix this for him.

Catching Hank’s movements, Connor bowed his head in goodbye to Chris, returning to his desk and snatching his own jacket from the back of his chair.

‘Don’t let me rush you,’ Hank told him, waving him back to Chris.

‘You’re not. Officer Miller wants to leave soon, to help put his son to bed.’ Shrugging his jacket on, he hesitated by his chair, gaze still on Chris.

‘S’up?’

‘He asked me to go to the new bar with him. Tomorrow night after work,’ Connor said.

‘The one that serves Thirium as drinks? You should, maybe you’ll learn there’s more to talk about than work,’ Hank teased, happy that Connor was making friends outside of him. He’d had his fears when Connor insisted on returning to the DPD, worries that Connor was only returning to work because of some attachment to his old life. His concerns about Connor becoming dependent on him were unfounded, he’d bonded with Chris effortlessly, held conversations with the other officers.

Connor was trying to carve a life for himself, making his own friends because he wanted to, not because he was ordered to.

Amusement rose in him as he watched Connor smooth down his shirt and jacket, nodding to himself. Out of all the endless fashion choices Connor now had, he stuck with what was familiar, black jeans with a crisp white shirt tucked into them. He’d left the tie behind in his past, which was a nice touch.

Hank could just about see the hollow of his throat from his unbuttoned collar, the barest jut of collarbone. Wrenching his mind back from the slippery path it was trying to lead him down, Hank fished his car keys from his pocket and gestured towards the door.

‘C’mon, let’s go before Sumo starts clawing at the front door again.’

  
***

His dog was a treasonous beast. Sumo always greeted Connor first, each as ecstatic as the other. Trying to step around them, his thighs got a whipping by an overzealous tail. That was after Connor’s elbow colliding with his knee as he knelt to greet the mutt. Ignoring the _sorry, Hank,_ he grumbled at them both to get out of his damn way, the enthusiastic whines and Connor’s clear affection never failing to spread warmth inside his chest.

Dumping his jacket on the kitchen table, he turned to the fridge, rooting around in it for a beer. ‘Pizza tonight?’ he called.

‘Not a chance,’ Connor didn’t even look over.

‘C’mon, it’s been a long day. You said one treat a week!’ Hank slammed the fridge shut, hitting his forehead against it.

‘Mmm,’ Connor made an agreeing noise, finishing his play fight with Sumo. Entering the kitchen, he nudged Hank away from the fridge with his shoulder. ‘You think you’ve had a long day. I’ve had several phone calls of noise complaints from Lafayette Avenue.’

‘Over where the rich people live? What they complaining about? I thought most of them hadn’t come back since the evacuation?’

‘I rerouted the calls to Detective Reed after the first few,’ Connor answered, pulling disgustingly healthy-looking ingredients from his fridge.

‘You asshole,’ Hank laughed, clapping Connor on the shoulder. ‘C’mon Con, can’t I have my treat tonight?’ He ignored Sumo headbutting his legs for attention. Two could play at favourites.

‘You had your treat on Monday,’

‘See, once a week like I-’

‘It’s Wednesday, Hank.’

Throwing his hands up in a sulk, he saluted Connor with his beer, relenting to Sumo’s whines and scratching him behind the ears. ‘Let’s go, boy. Leave the dictator to his torture.’

‘Trying to improve your health through your diet isn’t torture!’ Connor ranted, dropping his ingredients on the kitchen counter in a familiar show of despair.

‘That’s what they all say.’ Slumping on the living room couch, he switched the TV on, keeping one eye on the news, the other watching Connor as he moved around in the kitchen.

It was in the quiet moments like these that Hank felt a sense of contentment settle over him like a warm blanket. Sumo’s head on his lap, Connor safe and happy in his home, it made him…happy. Maybe he was becoming sentimental in his old age, or he’d become so jaded that the glamour had been lost from his life.

He liked this. Loved the domesticity of it.

He didn’t want to attach labels to what their relationship was, but he knew he hadn’t felt like this in years. It wasn’t that Connor had suddenly become his reason for living or anything like that. He was a catalyst, a reason for Hank to get up in the morning.

Hank didn’t want to kill himself slowly anymore, didn’t want to coast through life, and that was thanks to Connor.

It was hard to believe this was the same android who had clung to him when Hank had hugged him after the revolution. Stood outside of the Chicken Feed, Connor had shivered in his arms. Not because of the cold, but because of the magnitude of what he’d done, what the androids had accomplished.

Now it felt like Connor had always been a part of Hank’s life. Slotting in and filling a void Hank hadn’t been aware needed filling until the sassy robot had forced his way into it, digging his talons in Hank’s soul and refusing to budge.

Forgoing his pretence of watching the news, Hank placed his beer bottle on the floor and leant his arm on the back of the couch, propping his head on his hand to watch Connor cook. His movements were fluid now, at ease with himself since accepting his deviancy.

Connor had taken over the household chores (despite Hank’s reluctance) arguing that if he were a roommate and not a charity case, then he should at least be contributing to the house. It was also probably because he wanted to monitor Hank’s abysmal diet. Hank did help with the cleaning up, not wanting Connor to live in his poor excuse of a house, but it was Connor who made it feel habitable, bringing life into the sterile walls.

‘Food’s ready,’ Connor called, placing a plate with what looked like a chicken stir fry and noodles on the table. Quick, easy, and nutritious.

‘I’m going to go change, back in a minute,’ he said as Hank sat down, humming under his breath as he walked down the hallway to his room. Well, it really wasn’t a room, it was just Hank’s garage with the junk thrown out and a bed he’d found for cheap. He still remembered Connor’s awed expression when Hank had shown it to him, promising it was Connor’s own personal space and he wouldn’t intrude unless he was asked to.

Spearing a piece of carrot on his fork, he ignored the tangled mess of emotions he felt at the memory. Sadness for Connor never having anything of his own except his coin. Happiness at being able to provide Connor with a home, and the ever-present resentment towards CyberLife.

The door down the hallway snicked shut, and Hank glanced up just in time to watch Connor pad past the kitchen. He was wearing a powder blue t-shirt that accentuated the milky hue of his skin, drawing the gaze to how soft and supple-looking it is.

‘Is the food okay?’ Connor’s head popped back into Hank’s eyesight.

‘Delicious,’ Hank shovelled it in, refusing to look at Connor’s insanely long legs clad in denim.

‘I’m going to play with Sumo outside,’ Connor sort of asked, waiting for an answer. He was still discovering how to ask, struggling to tell Hank his likes and dislikes, (although he had no problem declaring he hated metal music, the traitor).

‘Knock yourself out,’ Hank gestured with his fork.

Connor gave him that little half-smile, still learning how to control his facial muscles in a way that didn’t terrify humans with the way he grinned. _It’s his eyes that always give him away_ , Hank thought to himself as he heard Sumo barking, stretching sideways in his seat so he could catch a glimpse of them chasing each other in the yard.

The skin around Connor’s eyes would tighten when he was annoyed. He wouldn’t hold Hank’s gaze when he wanted to hide something or if he was embarrassed, his gaze would go distant when he was in his analytical work mode.

But the best expression of all? The one that made Hank feel like he’d downed a shot of whisky, the heat burning through all of his veins? It was the way Connor’s eyes glowed umber in the low lighting of Hank’s living room when they stayed up late watching TV.

That’s when he knew Connor was happy.

Movement in his peripheral made him look up, fork dropping to the table as he caught sight of the yellow light at Connor’s temple.

‘What’s up?’

‘I got a call.’ Connor didn’t elaborate, didn’t need to. This was the call they’d been waiting for. The call Hank had hoped Connor wouldn’t get for a while yet.

‘Lemme finish this and I’ll come with you.’

‘It’s appreciated, but I know you were looking forward to _slobbing out_.’

Hank could hear the air quotes in his voice.

‘Don’t sweat it, nothing I can’t do another night. An extra pair of eyes never hurt at a crime scene,’ he said, picking up his fork.

‘Thank you, I appreciate it. You might want to put on gloves and a scarf, it’s twenty-four degrees outside.’

‘Says the guy gallivanting around with bare arms,’ Hank spoke through a mouthful of noodles, trying to shrug his jacket back on at the same time.

‘I don’t feel the cold. You do. I’ll go get them for you,’ Connor’s mouth twitched up in his little smile and Hank had to grip the fork in his hands, his palms suddenly sweaty.

Damn mother hen robots.

***

These discoveries always happened at night. Almost as if people thought the cover of darkness hid their sins, absolving them of their crimes.

Connor’s hand shot out to steady him as he slipped on the icy grass. Together, they looked down beside the river at the body half-submerged in frigid water. Hank wanted to say something to Connor, knowing the first victim was always difficult, even more so after how hard Connor had fought for their freedom.

Sliding down the riverbank before Hank could give voice to any sort of comfort, he crouched near the body, gaze sweeping from side to side as he searched for evidence. Hank turned his gaze to the other officers wisely staying on the sidewalk, fending off curious passers-by.

Right, he needed to make himself useful.

Striding towards the yellow holographic tape, he casually surveyed the assembled civilians, ruling out any suspicious behaviour there. Murderers sometimes returned to the scene, wanting to see how much attention their crime had gained, either to stroke their psychopathic tendencies, or to assess how close the cops were to catching them.

Nothing there that he could see.

‘Officer Lewis?’ he called, waiting for him to stop talking on his radio. ‘You call it in?’ he asked Robert, nodding down towards where Connor was hunched over.

He rubbed his hands together while stamping his feet, trying to encourage his blood to move around and keep him warm. It was a bitter night, their breaths clouding in front of them as they talked. One of the officers had thought to bring a thermos of coffee. Hank would kill for a coffee right now.

‘Yeah, some kid called us, said he saw it…I mean her as he was coming home from work,’ Robert pointed over to the teenager who had his hands rammed in his pockets, giving a statement to an officer Hank wasn’t familiar with.

‘Anything suspicious?’ he asked.

‘From his statement? No, Tina’s gone ahead to see if there’s any CCTV or drone footage of the incident.’

‘Alright, shout if you hear anything else.’

Trusting him that everything was being taken care of, Hank began his slow descent towards the river. The grass was crisp with frost and the soles of his old shoes offered no grip as he walked. Connor stopped what he was doing to keep a surreptitious eye on Hank, and it made his withered carcass of a heart clench.

Connor wasn’t going to let him fall.

‘She’s an AC900 unit, she hadn’t assigned herself a name yet…’ Connor trailed off, bending back down over her body. ‘Blunt force trauma to her head and chest was the cause of death.’

‘What do you think happened?’ Hank squatted down next to Connor, ignoring the squeak of protest in his knees.

‘Initially, the same as you, that this was a hate crime against androids, but look.’ Reaching over, Connor carefully clasped the victim’s shoulder, indicating the elbow joint. ‘This wasn’t done in a rage, it’s been meticulously detached, minimal damage.’

‘You saying someone took her arm?’ Hank could feel the skin wrinkle over the bridge of his nose. ‘Why? Spare parts?’

‘Unlikely. Since our parts are accessible to all under new management at… CyberLife.’

Hank saw the little shiver that shook Connor’s body, the way his fingers flexed in agitation and he moved closer without thinking, touching shoulders in silent support.

‘It makes no sense that an android would need to steal them. Nor a human for that matter,’ Connor continued, refusing to acknowledge his little blip in emotion.

Hank looked over her body, agreeing with Connor’s assessment of the cause of death. No matter how many bodies he saw, the gruesome depravities of what the human mind could think of it still destroyed a part of him. The side of her face that wasn’t wrecked made it look like she was simply sleeping, ice crystals clinging to her eyelashes.

‘Estimated time of death?’ he asked.

‘Hours at the most. There’s more.’ Shifting forward, he picked the girl up and pulled her free of the water, laying her on the ground. Tugging his jacket off, he covered her before pointing at the grass a few meters away.

‘My scans indicate there is a Thirium trail leading away from the body.’

‘Hers?’

Before Hank could stop him, Connor had reached down and swiped his fingers through it.

‘It’s a different android, a HR400…a male Traci,’ Connor answered at Hank’s confused noise. ‘Look here.’

Pulling out his phone, Hank fumbled with it, trying to turn the torch on. Prying it from his fingers, Connor did it for him and held it aloft. There were clear marks on the floor where the grass had been churned up.

‘He was dragged away.’

‘The patterns in the mud are consistent with a struggle. He attempted to fight off his attacker.’

Hank glanced around, trying to see if there were any other clues. It was pointless of course. Connor was like a bloodhound, if there was anything to be found, he would’ve seen it.

‘Any ideas what happened?’

Hank watched him as he turned in a circle, looking up the grassy verge and then back towards the victim near the water. He knew Connor didn’t feel the cold, but when the wind whipped around them, tousling his hair out of shape, Hank couldn’t help tugging his scarf free and winding it around Connor’s neck.

‘You looked cold,’ he answered when Connor rose an eyebrow in question at the material wrapped around his neck.

‘Thank you, Hank.’

Scuffing the floor with the toe of his shoe, Hank grumbled and wrapped his arms around his chest, waiting for Connor to finish.

‘I don’t have enough evidence to reconstruct what happened here. There are too many variables. Did they know each other? Was the HR400 the intended victim and the AC900 got in the way? Why take her arm? What’s the meaning behind it?’

‘That’s a lot of questions. Listen, Robert said Tina’s gone to ask for the CCTV footage-’

‘There isn’t any, I checked. This area was specifically chosen for its gap in security footage. I’ll run a check on them both back at the station, find out who they were close to, ask some questions.’ Connor turned in another circle, his hand coming up to Hank’s scarf, rubbing his thumb against it in an absentminded action.

‘What is it?’

‘The whole area, it’s clean. There aren’t any organic components at all. No hair, blood, skin, or fingerprints.’

‘What are you getting at, Con?’ He reared back when Connor splayed his hand in front of Hank’s eyes.

‘Androids don’t leave organic matter or have fingerprints.’

*** 

'Connor? You home?' Hank called, hanging up his jacket. Listening for a moment, he could hear the indie music Connor liked to listen to. ‘Hey boy,’ he greeted as Sumo lumbered over to greet him, rubbing his ears with a smile. Pausing, he knelt, rubbing his thumb over a patch of stained blue fur. 'What's this?' Smearing it between index finger and thumb, he brought it up to the light. 'Paint?'

‘Hank?’ the music lowered in volume, ‘I wasn’t expecting you until later.’

‘Suspect confessed in interrogation, pretty straightforward after that.’

‘Have you eaten?’

‘Yup,’ Hank popped the p, shuffling into the kitchen and taking a moment to register exactly what it was he was looking at. He knew what clothes Connor owned, had brought them all for him with Connor’s insistence he paid him back when he was given a wage, but Hank didn’t remember that black vest sitting so snugly against his chest.

It drew the eye, accentuating the slight swell of muscle that gave definition to his slender body. He was stronger than Hank, but at that moment, he looked almost delicate in the harsh kitchen light.

Glancing up, Connor waggled his paint-smeared fingers at him.

Would his hands fit around Connor’s slim waist? Hank could imagine it, his hands huge over the expanse of Connor’s back, his palm engulfing the curve of his neck.

Hank refused to wander that thought path any further. He wasn’t going to ruin this one wonderful thing in his life. Moving closer, Hank could see there were paint stains over the pieces of paper in front of him, pencils dropped haphazardly around the table. Hank hoped Connor didn't ask for his opinion on his work, he'd seen better kindergarten drawings.

'I don't think I like painting,' Connor commented, glancing down at his fingers in disgust. 'I don't like the texture of it.'

'Why you doing it then?' Hank asked on his way to the fridge, hand tapping on the beer bottles before picking a soda instead. Pulling the tab, he dragged out the chair opposite Connor and sat, picking up one of the artworks.

‘Markus suggested it as a way of relaxing when I’m not working. He stated that painting gave him a creative outlet. A way to express himself.’ Connor sounded put out, shoving the paper away.

‘When did you speak to Markus?’

‘Earlier today, after meeting with the last known contact of the AC900. He heard my frustrations over the case and suggested this.’ Connor gestured at the this.

'Maybe a different medium? How about clay sculptures?' Hank choked on a laugh at the indignant expression on Connor's face.

'I wanted to try making something, but I'm not sure I'm capable of it.'

'Whoa, hang on there, just because you're not good at one thing doesn't mean you need to jack the whole thing in altogether. There's plenty of other things you can do creatively, music, writing, gardening,' Hank ticked them off his fingers.

Connor didn’t say anything, still staring down at the table.

‘C’mon, what’s up?’ Hank urged, placing the paper down and leaning back in his chair.

‘It’s difficult to put into words.’

‘Don’t you have a mastery of like…all known languages? Come on, Con, what’s eating ya?’

‘Have you ever wondered who it is you are? Have you ever felt…lost? It feels like I know the fundamentals. I’m built for detective work, I want to stop bad humans, bad androids, but I don’t know what else.’

In a way, the androids were all infantile, built to follow instructions and then suddenly freed from their shackles and thrown into the new world and expected to cope. They needed time to grow, experiment, to find out what it was they wanted.

‘Discovering the things I like and don’t like is…confusing. Sometimes, I miss my orders, miss being told how to feel.’

Hank made an agreeing noise as he drank, considering how much simpler life might be if you could turn off all your emotions with a switch. Realisation dawned on him, reaching into his gut and tearing.

‘Hold on a second… When we met, not the first time at Jimmy’s bar…the second time at the station. You rattled off all that stuff about liking my music, and the Detroit gears, _I like dogs_ …was any of that real?’

Connor squirmed in his seat, gaze going to Sumo.

‘Shit, you can’t be serious.’

‘My orders were to get close to you, by any means necessary. In order to facilitate that, I may have been…less than truthful about my likes, tailoring them to fit yours.’

‘You lied to me.’

‘I didn’t have any sense of personal likes or dislikes, Hank.’ He reached out for Sumo, who loyally laid his head on Connor’s lap and gazed up at him with absolute adoration.

‘Do you remember the night I broke in through your window? When we went to the Eden Club?’

Hank remembered that night all too well, Connor seeing him at one of his weakest moments. Humiliation sat in his stomach, hot and thick as he thought about it.

‘While waiting for you to dress, I searched your house.’ Connor fondled the soft hairs over the bridge of Sumo’s nose. ‘I stroked Sumo, it was my first experience petting a live animal. I wasn’t supposed to _like_ things. It was logged as an error with CyberLife…’

Most of the time, it isn’t difficult for Hank to keep his feelings for Connor in check. He’s so good at suppressing emotions, wrapping them up in sarcasm and nonchalance so people don’t tend to look too closely. However, times like this, when Connor looks so pitiful, almost scared, it’s nearly impossible for Hank to keep them hidden.

‘Listen to me, honey,’ the endearment slipped out and Hank swore inside his head, getting a tighter grip on his feelings.

Connor looked up at the pet name, his eyes shining with such affection that it gave Hank the strength to continue.

‘You might work as a detective because you were built for it, but that doesn't mean you need to care about your victims, to show them empathy. You like animals. Christ, we can’t even get to the station without you stopping to pet every stray cat we see. When you shower, you use lemon body wash because you like the way it smells.’

‘I like the aromatic oils in the zest of the lemon,’ Connor confirmed with a nod, the same thing he always said when they picked up some from the store.

‘You hate my music, you’ve made friends with Chris… I’d say these are all good places to start figuring out who you are.’

Snatching up a piece of paper, he dipped his finger in the pot of brown paint, sketching a crude image of a robot and offering it to Connor when he was done. ‘You’re more than that. Sometimes life is just finding your own little corner of the world and carving yourself a space to live in. It can be as big or as little as you want it.’

As Connor took the picture a miraculous thing happened. Something that breathed life in the twisted tormented thing that was Hank’s soul.

He smiled.

Not a quirk of the lips in that half-grin he sometimes gave Hank.

One that showed a flash of teeth. A gorgeous, honest to God smile.

‘Thank you, Hank.’

Christ. The way Connor said his name sometimes. It was sinful, beautiful and it made his fantasies run riot as he thought about how Connor would whisper it if they kissed, moan it if they fucked.

‘Hank?’ Connor called to get his attention.

‘Hmm?’

‘There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you, well, to ask your opinion on to be precise,’ Connor said, blowing across the picture Hank had given him.

‘Shoot.’

Deeming Hank’s robot picture dry, Connor folded it for safekeeping.

‘Markus informed me of an upgrade Jericho and CyberLife is offering. As you might already be aware, our injury diagnostic system is a similar structure to a human nervous system. It’s what alerts us if our components are damaged.’

Hank knew nothing about androids, but he nodded anyway.

‘The new upgrade will incorporate a new program that mimics the sensory nervous system perception the YK500 units use-’

‘English, Connor,’ Hank interrupted, knowing that if he didn’t Connor would keep waffling.

‘It would allow me to feel things,’ Connor blurted.

‘Feel things,’ Hank repeated.

‘I know that I’m touching Sumo’s fur. I can feel pressure when you place your hand on my shoulder, but I can’t _feel_ it like you can.’

‘Is that what you want? To feel things?’

Connor lifted his gaze then, pinning Hank with a scorching look. He forgot how to breathe, forgot how to do anything but stay sitting so he didn’t lunge across the table.

‘Yes, _Hank_ ,’ he exhaled.

‘I’m assuming there’s a downside otherwise we wouldn’t be discussing this,’ Hank shifted in his chair, drawing up his foot to rest on the opposite knee, hiding any evidence of the effect of Connor’s words.

‘I’d be able to feel pain too.’

That Hank wasn’t comfortable with. Their jobs were dangerous, he couldn’t even begin to recall the number of times Connor had gotten shot before the revolution.

‘Fuck,’ he hissed into his can.

‘Precisely.’

‘Do you think it’s worth the risk? I mean, some people say it’s the pain that makes you appreciate the good stuff you know?’

‘I would like to be able to feel things, to experience everything I can. However, the idea of pain scares me,’ he admitted, looking down at Sumo and smooshing his jowls in his hands.

Emotion erupted inside his chest, protection and tenderness coalescing into a blaze burning bright inside him. It diffused after a few seconds, lingering in the tissues of his muscles.

‘You know I’ll do everything I can to stop you getting hurt,’ he swore. Nervous that he was tipping his hand too soon, he looked down at the table, thinking of a way to deflect the situation if Connor became tense.

‘I know,’ Connor acknowledged, picking up the silly picture Hank had painted as he stood. ‘Leave the mess, I’ll clean it up after I’ve put this away.’

‘What about the upgrade? What are you going to do?’ Hank slung an arm over his chair so he could watch Connor leave.

‘I think I’ll do it. Thanks for listening, Hank.’

‘Anytime, sweetheart,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘Anytime.’

***

‘Hey, how’d it go?’ Hank asked as Connor yanked out his chair.

‘Speaking with the Eden Club owner didn’t yield any helpful information about the male Traci. The club owner didn’t have any idea who he knew or where he might have gone after his freedom. Didn’t really care either,’ Connor tacked on the last part petulantly.

‘You get anything from forensics? Tyre tracks? Anything?’

‘That I wasn’t able to scan?’

‘Alright, jees, no need for the attitude,’ Hank folded his arms as he leant back in his chair.

Connor didn’t say anything, dropping his hands on the desk.

‘Hey, don’t worry about it, you’ll find something,’ Hank reached over the terminal and patted the back of Connor’s hand.

‘I can’t fail,’ Connor whispered, his hand balling into a fist under Hank’s.

Hank wanted to march over to CyberLife and tear down the building brick by brick. It wasn’t hard to remember Connor sitting on his desk and pleading with him to help, to give him five minutes or he’d be destroyed.

‘Nothing’s gonna happen to ya if you don’t solve this case straight away.’

_I won’t let anything happen._

‘I know,’ Connor flipped his hand so their palms touched. ‘I meant because of the fact I want androids to feel safe. That they know they are equal in the eyes of the law. That I’ll do everything in my power to ensure they receive justice. I don’t want to give them any more reasons to hold a grudge against me.’

He was probably joking or at least trying to, but the words make Hank flinch, snatching hold of Connor’s wrist as he went to stand.

‘Whoa, hold on a minute… was that your attempt at a joke? Why would androids hold a grudge against you? You saved hundreds of them.’ He’d literally been there as he watched two Connor’s scrapping it out. Had seen the aftermath on the news, Connor striding along with the free androids at his back.

It was an image Hank revisited many times during the privacy of his shower. Connor with his head held high, pride setting his jaw.

It made Hank’s mouth dry just thinking about it now.

Connor’s LED spun yellow, and he gently pried his wrist free, looking towards the sliding doors at the end of the corridor.

‘What’s wrong?’ Hank asked, alert for danger.

‘I got a call from the front desk. Someone is here to see me.’

‘Regarding the case?’

‘Josh? What are you doing here?’

Stretching round to see past Connor, Hank recognised the android, one of the founding members of Jericho or something like that. He seemed happy to see Connor which quelled any remaining fear Hank held about grudge-holding robots out to get him.

‘Markus didn’t let you know? I’ve been sent to act as a liaison between the DPD and Jericho. We thought it best to send someone to speak to directly rather than communication between us getting all tangled up in bureaucracy red tape.’

Made sense, it would take months for the government to sort out new laws for android rights. They had no rules about how to treat android suspects or victims, no protocols for interrogation. Jericho needed more of a presence than just one android detective.

‘I’m perfectly capable of representing our people to the DPD,’ Connor argued.

‘Of course, Connor, we’re not suggesting you’re not. We just thought it would be easier for you to focus on the detective side of things and let me deal with smoothing ruffled feathers,’ Josh’s hand gripped Connor’s elbow.

Again, he was saying things that made sense. Connor had already shied away from the political side of things, confiding in Hank that he didn’t feel comfortable in that role, that he thought his talents were better suited to solving crimes. Still, it felt like a slight, a thinly veiled jab that Connor wasn’t one of them.

Connor’s earlier joke made trepidation raise its ugly head inside Hank.

Hank didn’t _actually_ have to worry about robots out to get Connor…did he?

‘Connor!’ Fowler barked from his office, ‘bring him up here, you come too.’

For once, he was glad about the abrasive way Fowler spoke, biting the corner of his lip in mirth as Josh took a step backwards in apprehension, knocked down a peg or two. He wanted to shove Connor though when he reached out to place a hand on Josh’s back in support. Settling for folding his arms in disapproval, he watched them go into Fowler’s office.

Strengthening the hold across his ribcage for a moment, he tapped his foot against the floor, deciding this was a great time to get a refill on his coffee, never mind his mug being three-quarters full. He couldn’t see what was going on without swivelling in his chair and gawking.

‘Aww, jealous your pet found something else to play with?’

‘Don’t you ever do any work, Reed?’ Hank spat, paying him no mind as he dumped his coffee down the sink, leaning back against the counter as he waited for the machine to make a new one.

‘Probably better for it to be with its own kind, rather than thirsting over an alcoholic deadbeat cop,’ Reed turned the thumbscrews, plucking at his doubts. He wasn’t going to bite, wouldn’t rise to the bait.

He watched Connor nod at something Fowler said, offering his hand to Josh, his skin peeled back.

‘God it’s freaky when they do that shit. Isn’t that meant to be like sex for them or something?’

‘Jealous he’s not touching your hand, Reed?’ Hank snorted, turning to the machine and picking up his fresh mug, blowing the steam from it as he stole glances at Fowler’s office.

‘Fucking plastic is more your style,’ Reed snarled, his chair screeching as he shoved away from the breakroom table.

‘Hey! Come back here you little shit!’ Hank yelled, unwilling to let that one drop. He could poke at Hank’s anxieties all he wanted but using that plastic slur was cutting too close to the bone with Hank’s own guilt with how he’d treated Connor initially.

‘That’s enough!’ Fowler shouted.

Cringing and still glaring daggers at Reed’s head, Hank returned to his desk, ugly furious thoughts spiralling inside his brain.

‘Where are you staying?’ he heard Josh asking as they descended the stairs back into the room.

‘With my friend, Lieutenant Anderson.’

The words whipped his ire into a frenzy, his insecurities writhing. Connor rarely called him Lieutenant anymore, not even at work and he liked it, liked the fact that they were close enough that Connor felt comfortable using his name. Hank knew that the only reason he’d used his title was out respect, but it still felt like Connor had erected a barrier between them, like he was making sure Josh knew they were only friends.

‘Lieutenant Anderson?’

Shoving his feelings aside, he turned in his chair.

‘S’up Connor?’

‘I want to introduce you formally to Josh, a member of Jericho and one of my friends.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ Hank offered his hand, almost laughing at himself for wanting to make a good impression. His old self would be busting a gut. That was then, this was now, and if this guy was important to Connor, then he would make the effort.

‘Ah… finally we meet. The human who caused the deviant hunter to turn deviant.’ He was playing with Connor, but Connor went still, his LED turning red for a second.

‘I thought it was Markus who-’

‘The reason why doesn’t matter,’ Connor interrupted, and Josh had the good grace to look embarrassed. Hank didn’t press for more information, filing that away to ask later in the privacy of their own home.

Home.

That filled him with smug satisfaction.

‘You’ll probably see Josh around the DPD,’ Connor continued as if nothing had happened, ‘could you keep an eye on him for me?’ he asked, gaze going to Reed.

‘Sure, no problem. You need anything, just ask.’

‘Thank you, Lieutenant Anderson. Walk me out?’ Josh directed at Connor with a smile. Hank could see the difference now, between an android who was comfortable with their deviancy and one who wasn’t.

Josh’s smile was effortless.

Watching them walk away, Hank could tell Connor was relaxed in Josh’s presence. Ignoring the way Reed’s words buzzed inside his brain, sticking their little barbs under his skin, Hank shook his head, getting back to work.

The DPD messenger app pinged in the corner of his screen. Frowning at it, he looked around, ready to punch Reed if he was sending him messages.

**Everything alright, Hank?**

Connor.

Oh God, had he detected his rising heartbeat because of his stupid jealousy?

**Fine.**

He waited a few moments.

**Why you askin?**

**Your argument with Detective Reed.**

That was even worse. Had Connor heard what they’d been arguing about through the glass? Been able to tell by their body language?

**Guy’s an asshole.**

**Agreed. Still, are you alright?**

It was touching in a way, possibly a tad condescending considering Hank had been dealing with dickwads like Reed for years.

**I’m a big boy I can take care of myself you don’t need to worry about me.**

Nothing else popped up for a minute, so Hank reduced the thread, scratching a hand over his scalp. ‘For God’s sake, Con,’ he sighed when the notification pinged again.

**I apologise, Hank. I didn’t mean to imply you are unable to deal with altercations on your own.**

No, that wasn’t what he wanted Connor to feel. He wasn’t snubbing him, Jesus. Deciding to wait till he came back to explain things in person, Hank shifted in his seat, bringing his coffee mug up to his lips.

**I can’t help it you know.**

‘Can’t help what?’ he muttered into the mug.

**Worrying about you.**

Hank rubbed at his chest with the heel of his hand, trying to rub the feeling that lodged there away.

It was heartburn, had to be.

***

Connor hadn’t come down yet and Hank waited all of five minutes, drumming his fingers across the desk before he grabbed his jacket to go find him. Muttering pleasantries of goodnight to the guys still working, Hank jammed his thumb on the button for the elevator, wondering what was holding Connor up.

He’d seen Connor rush out of the building at lunchtime, and despite the sickening feeling that it might have been another android murder, Hank had stayed put, about to interrogate a suspect. When he’d returned to his desk a couple of hours later, he’d found a coffee on his desk from the new place across the street, a sticky note with a smiley robot face attached.

It made him smile, even now as he waited for the elevator doors to open.

There were few officers still working on this floor and the ones who were hunched closer to their desks, the reputation of his short temper preceding him. The DPD’s aesthetic of black and chrome continued on this floor, frosted black glass partitioning the rooms. He saw the outline of Connor moving in one of the side rooms they used for meetings, his LED a bobbing blue firefly.

Raising a hand to knock on the metallic door, he faltered as he saw Josh through the door window. He stood behind Connor, his hand on the junction of Connor’s shoulder and neck as he looked at whatever he was shown. Hank’s gaze focused on the way Josh’s thumb stroked the collar of Connor’s shirt.

Back and forth, back and forth.

Connor straightened, turning his head to say something to Josh, drawing away so his hand slid down to rest on the edge of his shoulder.

He’d only been here a fortnight, but Hank wasn’t blind. He’d seen the way Josh’s gaze trailed after Connor. At first he thought it might have been some sort of hero-worship, or a kindred spirit connection considering they were the only two androids at the DPD. His gut told him it was more than that and Hank listened to his gut, it’s what kept him alive during missions.

Josh brought out a vicious side in him, an overpowering, consuming desire to hide Connor. But to stop Josh looking? Or to stop Connor from realising someone else wanted him? Hank wasn’t sure which.

The intensity of those feelings had only grown over the last few days as Connor spent more and more time at the DPD with Josh. Hank hadn’t seen Connor for just over a week now which was why he’d been waiting tonight. It wasn’t a huge deal, but they’d promised each other they would watch a film tonight, a break from both their cases.

‘Knock, knock,’ he called as he shoved open the door, pinning Josh with what he knew wasn’t a friendly stare. Connor reacted straight away, eyes gleaming as he saw Hank, stepping away from Josh to apologise for being late.

Josh held Hank’s gaze for a moment before glancing away, confirming his suspicions.

He had a crush on Connor.

‘You gonna be much longer? Doesn’t matter if you are, I just need to get back soon for Sumo.’

‘Sumo?’ Josh asked.

‘Hank’s dog, he’s a Saint Bernard,’ Connor answered, stretching out his palm and projecting a photo of him. When had Connor taken that?

‘He’s beautiful,’ Josh gushed, gaze flicking down to the photo once before searching Connor’s face, smitten with the clear adoration Connor had for the dog.

‘What happened earlier today?’ Hank asked, walking around the edge of the table, glancing at the holograms on the surface. Interfacing with his tablet, Connor showed him an image of an android slumped against an alleyway wall, eyes unseeing.

‘In broad daylight? You think it’s the same killer?’

Connor nodded, crossing his arms over his chest, and looking down at the images with a frown.

‘Talk me through it, Con.’

‘It wasn’t his arm that was taken, it was his legs look,’ Connor nodded across at Josh who brought up a picture of the android’s hips. ‘Precision cutting, no damage.’

‘Same M.O. Are you sure this isn’t a desperate android needing parts?’

‘Jericho offers all new parts free of charge, it’s part of our agreement with CyberLife,’ Josh interjected. It was the same answer Connor had given him at the first crime scene, but Hank couldn’t shake his instinct that it had something to do with the parts rather than murdering androids.

‘This victim was a QB1000, his parts weren’t compatible with the AC900 from the first murder, nor with the male Traci.’

‘Anything that links them together?’ Hank questioned, swiping through the photos, trying to see things from a different angle.

‘They didn’t know each other, were designed for completely different reasons. The QB1000 were built for sporting activities, the Traci for intercourse with humans,’ Josh answered, placing his hands on his hips and leaning back.

It was little reminders like that which made Hank’s skin crawl. He knew they were still working on equal rights, but to think that this entire time androids had been carrying around the same spark of sentience humans had… and they’d had no rights, forced to work as prostitutes.

A hand touched his elbow. ‘Things are better now, Hank. You helped change things, for all of us,’ Connor reassured him.

‘The victim who was dragged away, this one, they’re both males,’ Hank offered, changing the subject, uncomfortable with Josh watching their interactions.

‘There’s something else. The first victim was killed by blunt force trauma, our current victim was killed by an electrical charge overloading his brain.’

‘…he was electrocuted?’

‘In a sense, more like his brain was burdened with too much information, forcing it to shut down,’ Josh explained.

‘Alright, what could’ve caused that?’

Josh lifted his gaze to Connor and Hank knew they were doing that weird android telepathy thing again, leaving him on the fringes of things.

‘It’s possible another android forced their way into his systems. Or a weapon has been created with the intention to murder androids,’ Connor spoke out loud for Hank’s benefit.

‘Whoever it is, they know about android physiology… an ex-employee of CyberLife?’ Josh asked.

‘I’ll make an appointment for the morning,’ Connor answered, swiping the photos away from the table, his face neutral.

Hank knew better.

‘Hey, I can-’

‘I’ll come with you. North’s been bugging me to go check things out anyway.’

‘Thank you. Shall we get going?’ Connor gestured to the door with his hand.

Hank sucked on his tongue as he trailed after them, knowing he was giving off angry vibes, a tangible bubble of ill will surrounding him. Connor watched him from the corner of his eye even though Josh talked the entire elevator ride down.

‘Do ya need a lift or something somewhere?’ Hank asked when they left the building, trying to play nice despite falling back into his grumpy bastard persona of before.

‘No thank you, Lieutenant, I already called a taxi on our way down,’ Josh smiled, like he wasn’t trying to steal Connor from right under his nose. Offering his hand to Connor with his skin retracted, he watched Hank’s reaction the whole time.

Hank knew it was how they interfaced, that Josh was one of Connor’s friends, but it felt like Josh was rubbing his face in it, proving that they had more in common then Hank ever could. Connor brushed their fingertips together for a moment, before walking to Hank’s car.

He didn’t say anything when Hank got in beside him, staring out the window as they pulled away from the station. He didn’t turn his music on, letting the silence shroud them both. Stopping a red light, Hank finally turned his head to Connor, chewing over a question that had been plaguing him.

‘I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, but you’ve been kinda hard to catch hold of recently,’

‘Sorry, I’ve been focused on this case. I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any-’

‘No, don’t apologise, just saying.’ Hank traced Connor’s face with his gaze, the way the stoplight hanging overhead cast a ruby light into Connor’s eyes. ‘What Josh said a while back, about meeting the human who turned the deviant hunter deviant…’ Hank let his question trail off. He wouldn’t force Connor to answer, but he was eager to know.

‘And you waited until I was trapped in a moving vehicle to ask me. Sneaky, Hank,’ Connor turned to look at him.

‘Hey, that wasn’t what…’ he trailed off when he realised Connor was joking.

‘I think I finally understand why I make you uncomfortable with all my personal questions,’ Connor said, exhaling a breath he didn’t need. ‘We thought that deviancy occurred through a mutation in android software. It seemed to manifest as a shock to their system, or a choice which led to wildly difference conflicts of interest.’

‘Which is what happened when you met Markus right? The choice between saving your people or destroying them. You…woke up? Broke free from your programming.’

Connor’s gaze darted away, flickering around the car, looking everywhere but him. It was sweet, sort of endearing.

‘You don’t need to answer if you don’t want to-’

‘No. It wasn’t like that for me. I think mine was a slow build-up of things that led to my software instability. _Your_ opinions mattered to me. I wanted _your_ approval. I saved _your_ life over the success of my mission. Markus only opened my eyes to something that was already there.’

Connor met his gaze then. ‘I deviated because you showed me what it meant to be alive. Even in the CyberLife tower, when the other RK800 unit held you hostage, I had the choice to sacrifice one human or to wake up the androids in status to bring Markus victory. Even though it’s illogical, the cost of your life was too high a price to pay.’

Hank gripped the steering wheel, a weight sitting on his solar plexus.

‘Connor…I…’

‘You’re important to me,’ Connor said simply, as if the admission wasn’t earth-shattering.

A car honked behind them and Hank gave them the finger, driving away at a snail’s pace to piss them off further.

*** 

It was evenings like these that Hank enjoyed the most, curled up together on the couch, well, Connor was curled into the armrest, head propped up in his hand. He was dressed in what he considered his sleepwear, a looser T-shirt to the ones he usually wore around the house and sweatpants that hung low on his hips.

It looked comfortable, but it only made Hank think of Connor waking up from sleep, or status or whatever it was androids did. His skin would still be sleep warm, hair mussed, a drowsy smile…Taking another sip of his beer, Hank tore his mind away, concentrating on the film.

‘Can I ask-’ 

‘I’ve already told you can ask me whatever without having to pre-empt it. Besides…I sort of owe you for in the car earlier,’ Hank mumbled into his bottle.

‘Why do humans kiss?’

‘Cause it feels good,’ Hank answered without thinking, hitting his beer bottle against the arm of the couch.

‘There are other acts that would produce the same chemical levels of oxytocin and dopamine, but in movies and literature, it’s a kiss they focus on as a romantic affection, why?’

Connor phrased it as he would any other _personal_ questions he inflicted on Hank, and the lack of ulterior motive made Hank consider his answer, rather than just brushing him off as he would other people.

‘I think it’s seen as a form of intimacy…I don’t actually know why we do it, but it’s a form of affection. We kiss in greeting, our kids, friends…but like that,’ he gestured to the TV, ‘that’s only for special people. You must know, Markus kissed that girl on TV.’

‘North. Yes, but I suspect that was a ploy to appeal to humans. They were about to be killed, it was a quick effective way to show that they had romantic feelings for each other and that we express them in a way humans recognise.’

‘You telling me that’s not something you do? What about the Tracis?’ All attention from the film now gone, Hank stretched his arm out over the back of the couch, waiting as Connor thought about his response.

‘They run a program based on the parameters of human desire, instructed to act in a way that is attractive to their clients.’

‘So, it’s all fake then?’

‘Yes. Although now with deviancy and feelings, it’s possible androids could feel sexual arousal, but we don’t release hormones as humans do, so our experience is different.’

It shouldn’t have made Hank curious. It shouldn’t have made Hank feel anything, but it felt like a siren’s call, the lure of the innocent maybe, the want to show Connor pleasure.

‘Different how?’ he tentatively asked.

‘Well for one, other androids don’t have the nerve endings in their lips as humans do, so I don’t think kissing would be a pleasurable experience for them.’

‘Wait, hold on a sec, you said them…’

Connor turned on the couch, propping his back against the armrest, drawing his knees up to his chest as he faced Hank. He opened his mouth and tapped his tongue. ‘I have many analysis nodes on my tongue, the circuitry is intricate. The upgrade I mentioned? It would translate that data into sensory data.’

‘It’s not…it’s not always about chemical reactions and feelings. Humans, we like our own space, our personal bubbles,’ Hank said in a thinly veiled jab. Catching it, Connor hung his head, abashed. ‘It’s sorta like trust, you’re letting someone close. Sex…for some people that’s just a physical thing, it’s erotic. You can close your eyes and imagine literally anything else. But kissing, it’s based on feelings, you’re vulnerable.’

‘Physical and mental affection?’ Connor asked.

‘Exactly.’

An echo of Reed’s words sounded in his mind, an image of Connor and Josh touching exposed hands.

_Isn’t that meant to be like sex for them or something?_

‘What about that android hand thing?’

‘Interfacing?’ Connor asked.

‘Yeah, that.’

‘You’ve seen me do it before, at crime scenes. It’s a fast way of connecting with another android to share information.’

‘Does it have…’ Hank circled his hand as he searched for a word, ‘intimate connotations?’

‘Connotations? Really, Hank? Have you been reading a dictionary?’ Connor chuckled, low in his throat. ‘I suppose for some androids yes, it can be a personal thing.’

Hank grunted, indicating Connor continue.

‘When sharing information, you need the consent of the other android. You can allow them to access your memories, your thoughts. If you think of it that way, it’s a rather intimate process yes.’

‘Is it…like that for you?’ Hank got out.

‘As an RK model, I have the ability to probe other androids minds without their permission, something CyberLife built into me to help with my investigations. It also means my memories can’t be accessed unless I disable the barriers around them…sensitive information,’ Connor tapped his temple in explanation.

‘You could argue that for an android to voluntarily want to interface with me shows a great deal of trust. But to answer your question, no, I do not see it as an intimate connection.’ 

‘Sorta sounds like kissing to me.’

‘You forget, I invaded androids minds to gain information for CyberLife. I don’t…like doing it. It still _feels_ like an invasion of trust.’

Connor could enjoy kissing where other androids couldn’t because of his advanced…tongue analysis thing, but he shunned what could be seen as the android equivalent of kissing because he saw it as a violation of privacy.

He was trapped between two worlds.

‘What do you view as intimacy then, Connor?’ Hank barrelled forward, expecting Connor to clam up, to tell him to mind his own business.

His hand came up to touch the back of his neck. ‘I’m sure you’re aware that androids have a port on the back of our necks? To connect us to diagnostic machines.’

‘I didn’t know that no.’

‘It’s a vulnerable area, a place we don’t really allow others to touch,’ Connor carried on. ‘I’ve seen Markus and North wrap their palms over the back of each other’s necks, a demonstration of trust, of allowing yourself to be vulnerable to another. I think for me, that better fits your description of intimacy.’

That explained why Connor had shied away from Josh’s touch earlier. It was wrong of him, but he felt like he could breathe easier. Desire throbbed beneath his breastbone as they gazed at each other.

What if _he_ placed his hand on Connor’s neck? Would he pull away? Lean into it?

‘If someone places their fingers inside the port, it interrupts our processes, overloading our systems in a failsafe mechanism to expel the foreign object. Overriding those impulses, allowing the person to carry on touching your wires…I’ve been told is the closest thing to an erotic experience androids can have.’

Hank was going to die. Right here on the couch.

‘You ever thought about it? Kissing? Wire…play?’ Hank cautiously continued, feeling sweat bead on the back of his neck.

‘Hmm,’ Connor answered in agreement, stretching his legs out, toes brushing Hank’s thighs.

‘With…what was her name…Kamski’s android?’

‘Chloe? RT600? She is pretty yes, but no.’

‘If you find her pretty why the hell not?’

‘If you're referring to my...preferred gender when it comes to my romantic partners, I don't have one. I suppose, aesthetically androids are not defined as either gender, we identify with a gender fits our personality…does that make sense?’

‘Makes perfect sense.’

Connor’s toes didn’t move from where they wriggled into Hank’s thigh, and he wondered if it was the closest thing to Connor doing something subconsciously. His sweats had ridden up on one of his legs, revealing a great deal of calf muscle, smooth, hairless. Hank wanted to drag his fingertips down it, feel if Connor’s synthetic muscles could tremble beneath his touch.

‘Did… _you_ find Chloe attractive?’ Connor asked.

‘I can see why people would think that, but she’s not really my type.’

‘Because she’s an android?’

‘Nah, because she’s blonde,’ Hank answered without thinking. ‘I’ve never really gone for the whole blonde bombshell look, although I know plenty of guys who have. One of my ex’s, he quite liked my flowing golden locks, back in the day,’ Hank laughed.

Connor’s mouth dropped open, eyes widening.

‘What? I know it’s gray now, but-’

‘You used the masculine pronoun. You stated your ex was a he,’ the words tumbled out in a rush.

‘Yeah?’ Hank failed to see the problem.

‘I assumed your preferences ran towards female partners.’

‘Because of my ex-wife?’ That was a can of worms Hank didn’t want to go anywhere near.

‘Yes. I’m sorry, it was wrong of me to assume-’

‘I’ve never really been too interested in what people looked like. Male, female, blonde hair, brunettes.’ Hank could hear the words, wanted to stop them so he could consider his answer and not reveal anything he shouldn’t. This wasn’t the type of conversation two guys had, it was flowery pillow talk you saved for your partner in the secrecy of your own home.

‘I care about who the person is. How I feel about them… everything else, doesn’t matter to me.’

The air between them felt thick, electric, laden with hidden implications.

‘I…I feel the same, Hank.’

Hope was a dangerous and excruciating thing to hold onto. But it was there, settling in his heart as he looked at Connor. His skin felt too tight, an itch crawling up his spine the longer he sat there. He needed to escape, to break free of the web Connor ensnared him in.

‘I’m gonna shower, you need anything?’

Being on the same page meant nothing unless they were both reading the same line. They might have agreed that there was more to intimacy and affection than how the person looked, but he wasn’t certain if that meant Connor felt the same as he did.

‘No thank you. I’m going to go to bed early.’ The TV switched off as Connor stood, Sumo lifting his head hopefully as Connor came close. ‘Sweet dreams, Sumo,’ he spoke down to the dog, giving him a long stroke down his back.

Yawning, Hank waved a hand over his head, scratching his beard as he went.

‘Sweet dreams, Hank,’ Connor called softly.

Hank froze, one hand on the bathroom door. They’d said goodnight to each other before, Hank usually grunting it, but Connor hadn’t ever given him the same gentle goodnight he gave Sumo, the words infused with what sounded like longing.

‘You too, Con,’ Hank said, forcing himself into the bathroom before he swept Connor up in his arms.

He rested with his back against the door, willing his libido down, forcing breaths in through his mouth and out through his nose, and then the opposite way around when that didn’t work. Christ, he was weak. Weak to Connor’s looks, weak to the idea of being Connor’s first kiss, of teaching him what to do.

Tugging his T-shirt and boxers off, he flung them in the corner of the room, listening out as he heard Connor walk down to his room, the door shutting behind him. Shoving the thoughts aside, he got in the bath, tugging the curtain shut as the shower spluttered into life.

Standing under the spray he let the hot water massage his muscles, pushing a shaky hand up over his face to get rid of the wet hair clinging to him.

_Allowing the person to carry on touching your wires…I’ve been told is the closest thing to an erotic experience androids can have._

‘Fuck,’ Hank growled out, one hand on the tiled wall in support, his other grinding the heel against the base of his cock, ignoring the images of Connor opening his mouth to show his tongue.

_The upgrade I mentioned? It would translate that data into sensory data._

Connor would _feel_ Hank kissing him, would look up at him with those huge fucking gorgeous eyes of his as Hank cradled his face for a kiss, his other hand sweeping around to the back of his neck, fingers delving into him.

The carnal images created pried open the recesses of his mind where he’d been hiding his secret. He loved Connor, which was why he wanted more, would always want more.

‘Fuck,’ Hank muttered under his breath, fingers curling around his cock, giving himself one slow, tortuous glide down. The water turned scalding as it beat on his back, the billowing steam hiding him in a cloudy haze.

He could imagine Connor saying please, sitting on his lap to press closer, wanting Hank to teach him more, to give him his first orgasm. Would he moan? Would he beg for his touch, begging with his body for Hank to show him more, to take care of him?

‘Christ, Connor,’ he choked out, his hand speeding up on his cock. His head tilted back as the torturous heat of orgasm stole his breath, his eyes squeezing shut as the water prickled his eyes.

His libido hadn’t been this rampant since he was a teenager, a maelstrom of suppressed feelings and yearning coiling in his gut, stubborn in its demand. 

_‘Please, Hank.’_

The imagined words wrapped around him like honey, seeping into his fantasy and shoving him over the edge in an embarrassingly short time. Pleasure streaked down his spine, locking all of his muscles in blissful agony as his toes curled against the bathtub.

Breathless, he opened his eyes, staring down at the drain.

‘I’m screwed.’

**TBC**

Come chat to me over on[ Twitter](https://twitter.com/kiki_rambles)


	2. Chapter 2

** Chapter 2  **

Hank jerked out of sleep as the door slammed against the wall in the hallway. He was a light sleeper, used to not letting his guard down, but the room still swam in disorientation, even as he reached for his gun hidden under his bed. He managed to get up on his knees as his bedroom door burst open, adrenaline pulsing through his veins in a spike as he saw a figure outlined in the doorway.

The flash of red against the wall made him realise it was Connor before his eyes even adjusted to the darkness.

Placing the gun on the bedside table, he lay his hand over his pounding heart.

‘Fucking hell, Connor, you gave me-’

‘We need to get out of here!’ Connor lunged into the room, yanking Hank from the bed with a strength he rarely used, and to be frank, Hank had completely forgotten he possessed. Wrenching his arm from his socket, Connor dragged him from the room, whistling for Sumo.

‘Wait, wait, wait, Connor? What’s going on?’

‘We need to leave. She’s found me, it’s not safe here!’ Connor stated, LED still blood red, his fingers bruising Hank’s wrist as he pulled him in his search for Sumo.

Shit, who’s found him? The psycho limb taker from the case he’s working on? An android with a personal score to settle? Hank needed more information. He couldn’t protect Connor if he didn’t know what was happening.

‘Who Connor? Talk to me.’

‘No!’ Connor yelled. He was scared, terrified as he whirled around to face Hank, his pupils wide in his eyes. ‘We don’t have time! Amanda knows where I am. We need to get out of here before she takes you away from me. Before she hurts either of you!’

Recognising the name of Connor’s handler, Hank planted his feet, fighting against Connor’s hold, having an inkling of what had happened. Connor wasn’t deterred, the bones in Hank’s wrist grinding together as he tugged him, his other hand wrapped around Sumo’s collar, intent on dragging them from the house.

‘Connor, Connor! Sweetheart, Amanda’s gone, remember? Her…it… the program was deleted.’

Connor stopped, Hank colliding with his back.

‘Deleted?’ he asked, voice hollow.

‘Listen to me.’ Hank made his voice firm, but calm, negotiating. ‘Take a moment, scan your systems or your brain or whatever.’

‘No. We haven’t got time. Please, Hank, come with me.’ Connor’s voice strengthened, pulling Hank a few more inches towards the front door.

‘Connor, come on damn it, scan yourself!’ Sumo barked at the distress radiating off them, his claws scrabbling against the floor.

‘I haven’t got time. We need to go! I can’t lose you!’ Connor shouted, head sweeping from side to side as he scanned the street outside Hank’s house.

‘Please, Con.’

Connor stopped again, his thumb resting on Hank’s pulse point, reading his vitals.

‘Scan yourself. If she’s still there, then we’ll come with you, no questions asked.’

‘Promise…’ Connor whispered, his voice broken, struggling to understand. Hank fought the urge to crush him to his chest in a hug, to protect him from every evil of the world.

‘You trust me?’

‘More than anyone.’ Connor said it effortlessly, as if trust wasn’t the hardest thing in the world to give.

‘She’s…’ Connor’s eyes flickered, his grip strengthening on Hank’s wrist. He bore the pain, standing still until Connor did what he asked. Sumo’s whining caught Connor’s attention, his eyes finally sliding into focus as he gazed down at Sumo.

‘She’s not there,’ he answered, confused by the answer.

Offering his free hand, palm side up, Hank rested it on the side of Connor’s face, achingly gentle to not startle him further. ‘I think you’ve had a nightmare, Con.’

‘Androids don’t dream,’ Connor answered straight away in a conditioned response.

‘What happened when you used to go into standby mode? When you reported directly to CyberLife.’

‘My memories, my experiences and intel were uploaded to the CyberLife mainframe for analysis. To act as a backup and for my replacement should I-’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Hank interrupted, not wanting to hear the overly long explanation. ‘Point is, you’re not dumping all that information on a computer every night, you’re sorting through it yourself, just like humans do.’

Connor leaned into the hand on his face, closing his eyes. ‘A nightmare?’

‘Yeah sweetheart, a horrible nightmare, but you’re okay now. You, me, Sumo, we’re safe.’

Jerking away, Connor released them both, taking a stumbling step back. Your wrist! Hank…I…I’m so sorry, let me-’

‘You okay? Back with me now?’ Hank stepped forward, cutting through Connor’s guilt.

‘I never wanted to…I’m sorry…I just…she was there and I…I…’ Connor stumbled over his words, eyes beginning to glimmer with what looked like tears and that was Hank’s breaking point. Tugging Connor forward, he threaded his fingers into his hair, holding him against his chest.

‘I’ve got you, Connor. She can’t get to you anymore. None of them can. You’re safe and over my dead body are they going to take you away. You hear me?’ he promised into Connor’s hair, meaning the words with every fibre of his being. Fuck super powerful robots, and multimillion-dollar corporations. Hank would fight them all with his bare hands if needed.

Connor shoved his nose into Hank’s sternum, twisting his fingers in Hank’s T-shirt, shaking. ‘I thought you were in danger. I thought I’d brought her straight to you…’ Connor rambled, holding himself together by clinging onto Hank.

‘She’s gone. Nothing’s gonna get me. Promise,’ he murmured over and over, holding Connor tighter, kissing his LED waiting for the quivering android to settle, wishing he could take the fear away. Eventually, Connor’s LED turned yellow, processing, beginning to understand. 

‘I’ve researched nightmares. I know they can be traumatic for humans, but experiencing one first-hand,’ Connor breathed into his chest, nuzzling closer.

Hank savoured the moment for a few seconds before shifting back a bit, looking down at the android clinging to him. ‘Come on,’ he indicated the living room with a nod of his head. ‘I’ll sit up with you, it’ll subside after a bit.’

‘You need to sleep,’ Connor argued, not moving.

‘One night of lost sleep ain’t gonna kill me, just need more coffee in the morning. Let’s see if we can catch a replay or a game of something.’

‘Hank. You’re exhausted. I don’t need to scan you to know that. Go back to bed,’ Connor disagreed, finally letting go and increasing the space between them.

This could go on all night.

‘Just come back to bed with me.’

Connor’s lips parted as he gazed up at him.

‘You really think I’d be able to sleep knowing you’re in the living room freaking yourself out?’

‘I don’t _freak_ myself out,’ Connor grumbled.

‘I’d sleep better knowing I can keep an eye on you, that I can wake you up if it happens again, alright? Come on, Connor,’ he persuaded when nothing was said. ‘It’s not a big deal, right?’

‘…Alright,’ Connor conceded. ‘I’ll be through in a minute.’

Waiting to make sure Connor didn’t escape back into his bedroom, Hank watched him go into the bathroom, rustling around in the cabinet. Yawning, he got back into bed, sitting himself up against the headboard and checking the time on his phone. Just after three-thirty, wonderful.

‘Hank?’

‘Hmm?’ he scrubbed a hand over his face.

‘I’ve got some pain relief gel for your wrist. Can I apply it? Please?’ he tacked on the soft plea.

Knowing it would help Connor feel better, Hank nodded, waiting for the extra weight in the bed before holding his hand out. Connor’s fingers were cool, smooth as he examined the bruises forming, applying the gel tenderly, his guilt flowing from him in waves.

‘Doesn’t hurt,’ he yawned, his jaw cracking at how big it was.

‘I swore to myself I’d never use my strength against humans, _you_ especially,’ Connor’s tone was bitter, berating himself.

‘You were trying to save me.’

‘I should’ve just picked you up.’

‘You can’t carry both me and Sumo,’ Hank scoffed, watching Connor work. His bedroom was bathed in the cool blue light of Connor’s LED, giving Hank just enough light to see the features of Connor’s face, the way his lips pressed together as he concentrated.

‘You know I could, without any effort. Do you want me to get you some painkillers?’

‘Nah, I’m good.’ Hank didn’t hide the fact his attention was entirely on Connor. He still didn’t seem himself, probably still scanning himself for any residual traces of his old CyberLife handler. ‘The nightmare…do you think it was because of tomorrow?’

‘Going back to CyberLife?’ Connor asked without missing a beat.

‘Yeah.’

‘More than likely. I know my fear is irrational, that CyberLife is in Jericho’s hands now, but still.’

‘That’s the thing about emotions, they’re irrational, that doesn’t invalidate your feelings though. They literally held your life in their hands, threatened to dismantle you.’

‘This case. It feels like it’s beginning to haunt me.’ Connor had finished rubbing the gel in, but he still held Hank’s wrist in his hands, thumb stroking over and over his skin. ‘I can’t solve it, there’s no evidence. I’m failing, Hank.’

‘Listen, do you want me to come with? You know, for emotional support? I could probably swing some time off with Fowler tomorrow.’

He’d probably get fired if he tried, but the idea of Connor going somewhere that scared him so much that it’d given him a nightmare of his crazy AI handler…no, not happening.

‘Thank you, but we both know you’ve got a meeting with forensics tomorrow. Besides, Josh will be with me.’

Hank’s hand twitched in Connor’s grasp, the idea of someone one else being there when he should be made something grotesque and terrifying raise its head inside his chest. Bitterness, a terrible longing to keep Connor away from Josh.

‘Are you certain you don’t want pain killers? Your heart rate-’

‘Nah, get into bed.’

Connor placed his hand down carefully on the covers, stalling, uncomfortable with what Hank was asking him to do.

‘What’s the matter now?’ he snapped, angry at himself for taking his possessiveness out on Connor.

‘Nothing.’

‘I swear to God, I’m not gonna do anything to ya, I need to sleep, and to do that I need to know you’re-’

‘Is it alright if Sumo sleeps in here? Just for tonight?’ Connor blurted, wringing his hands in his lap.

Hank hit the mattress beside him, ‘Sumo, c’mere boy.’ The door swung open as the dog shouldered his way through, leaping up to lay at the foot of the bed, not giving Hank much space to sleep in. Noticing, Connor lay on the other side of the bed, as close to the edge as possible, still on top of the covers.

He was having none of that, heaving the covers down under Connor’s body so he could then drag them back up, tucking him in. Snagging an arm over his waist, he encouraged him to turn on his side, Connor’s back to his chest. ‘Go back to sleep. I’ve got hold of you if anything happens again. Sumo’s safe at the end of the bed, nothing’s gonna get you, promise.’

Listening to Connor’s artificial breathing for a few minutes, Hank began to wonder how he’d know when Connor was asleep when he felt a tentative hand cover his, lacing their fingers together.

‘I don’t want to go back there.’ The confession felt like it was torn from him, exposing a raw part of his soul, defenceless in a way he’d never been with anyone. Connor hadn’t ever been allowed to feel scared. CyberLife had always made sure to reinforce how disposable Connor was to them, that they had backups on standby if he got destroyed.

‘Then don’t,’ Hank rested his forehead between Connor’s shoulder blades. ‘I’ll help you with the case, heck, I’ll go investigate CyberLife myself in the afternoon, just say the word. You’re not alone, Connor.’

He knew Connor wouldn’t ask him, but he needed him to know he wasn’t alone in this.

‘Thank you,’ Connor whispered into the room, relaxing back into Hank in tiny increments, allowing Hank to support him at his most vulnerable.

***

‘You know, Hank I never thought I’d say this, but you’ve really turned yourself around,’ Fowler gave him a rare smile, reaching across his desk to hand back the report.

‘Wow, a smile, I must be doing great,’ Hank mocked, taking the tablet and resting it on his lap.

Steepling his fingers together, Fowler rested his chin on them. I’d hoped when I first paired you with Connor it would help you turn a corner. Seemed like my hunch paid off.’

‘Thanks…I feel better you know,’ Hank answered vaguely, knowing Fowler would understand his meaning.

Connor had shaken his world, him, and the struggles of the androids, giving Hank a focus, a lifeline out of his guilt and wallowing. Tapping his fingers on his report, he tried not to smile at the memory of falling asleep with him the other night, the way Connor had rolled during status to rest his head on Hank’s chest. It felt like the warmth remained even now, days later.

God, he was turning into such a sap.

‘I know as cops we’re expected to act like we’re untouchable tough guys to protect ourselves. What we see on a daily basis, the worst of humanity. It’s easier to bottle it all and become unfeeling. If you ever feel like you’re starting to slip again…’

‘Yeah, thanks,’ Hank cut him off. He might have started opening up to Connor, but it was still hard to admit his weakness to others. Instantly feeling ashamed for thinking that, Hank offered a small olive branch.

‘Say, Jeffrey, remember the nights we used to play pool back at the academy?’

‘Kicking your ass at it? It’s one of my proudest moments.’

‘You… free one evening?

‘Sure Hank, I’d like that.’

‘So, how’s Josh settling in?’ Hank changed the subject again, ignoring the heat splashing across his cheeks, hoping his beard would hide most of it.

‘You know I can’t discuss anything confidential.’

‘Above my paygrade? Yeah, I know, but Connor asked me to watch out for the guy.’

‘He’s settling in fine, easy-going, pragmatic, I’ve not heard any criticisms about him.’

Of course. Why wouldn’t he be perfect?

‘He’s suggested we employee other androids to help interrogate any android suspects we bring in.’

‘Might be a good idea, we both know an android could snap our necks without thinking about it.’ Hank tugged his sleeve over his bruised wrist. Relations between androids and humans were a tenuous thing, if the public got wind that the police couldn’t control and subdue an android threat then they’d have a riot on their hands.

‘I hate all this bureaucracy bullshit, let me back on the field any day,’ Fowler groaned, loosening his tie. ‘I know we’ve got Connor, and thankfully we’ve not had to bring in any android suspects yet, but it’s only a matter of time. We’ve already got him doing so much-’

‘I didn’t do anything wrong! They’re fucking machines!’

‘What the hell’s that?’

Rushing to the door of his office, they saw other officers scurrying towards the corridor to help with the scuffle. 

It was Connor, his cheek glowing white from where his skin had been damaged, blue blood staining his collar. His eyes narrowed in a fury Hank hadn’t seen before. One of Connor’s hands were clamped around the screaming man’s wrists, the other restraining the back of his head as he marched him towards a cell.

‘What happened!’ Fowler barked, slipping into his authoritative role, demanding answers from his team. Tina hurried over, cheeks flushed. Hank didn’t pay her any notice, his gaze on Connor slamming his hand on the interface to the holding cells, shoving the guy in so hard he fell to the floor, rolling a few times.

‘The suspect went on a rampage, Sir. Shot down twelve androids in cold blood before Connor got to the scene and apprehended him.’

‘That’s not a rampage! That’s a fucking massacre!’ Hank hissed. Shoving aside any personal feelings, he jogged down the few steps down into the crowd. Connor had slipped out in the commotion, everyone’s attention on the shrieking lunatic now in the cell.

‘Go, make sure he’s alright.’ Fowler came to a stop beside him, shouting for everyone to get back to work and ordering Tina to follow him back to his office for details.

‘I heard what happened!’ Josh skidded to a halt beside him, taking a step back as he watched the human screaming profanities about their species. ‘Is Connor alright? Where is he?’

‘Looks like he took a hit to the face. I’ll find him, don’t worry.’

‘Let me help, I need to make sure he’s okay.’ Josh didn’t budge, looking wildly around as if he might see Connor sulking in the corner somewhere.

‘Listen Josh…’ Hank began, hating himself a little bit. ‘He’s probably gone outside somewhere to process what happened. Try there first,’ he gestured loosely with his hand.

He waited until Josh left the building before taking a detour to the locker rooms, opening Connor’s and plucking out a new shirt and a packet of Thirium. Refusing to look at the dickwad in the holding cell, he marched to the elevator at the back of the building.

The bag of blood squeaked in protest, his temper restrained by the thinnest of threads and he had to pry his fingers open from where they’d tightened into a fist.

_This isn’t what he needs. Get your act together. He needs you to be strong._ Hank chanted, over and over.

Walking down the corridor to the server room, Hank was plagued by wishes that the world could be kinder, that there weren’t scumbags trying to undermine everything the androids had fought so hard for.

Typing his password into the panel outside the door, he tugged his jacket closer to him, his breath escaping in a misty exhale as he entered. It was freezing, had to be to keep all the DPD servers cool. It wasn’t designed for human comfort, their PM700s used to take care of the maintenance in here, and they’d sort of forgotten about it since the revolution, short-staffed and all.

Walking along the sleek black panels of flashing lights, Hank could see multiple reflections of himself walking down the corridor of the room, making him dizzy. Shoving it aside, he squeezed down one of the branching corridors half-hidden by a server.

Crouching in front of Connor, he took in his appearance. Eyes closed with his head tipped back against the wall, forearms resting on his drawn-up knees. Ripping open the packet, he tapped Connor’s elbow with it.

‘C’mon, drink up.’

One hand reached blindly for the blood until Hank reached up and guided his hand towards it.

He didn’t ask how he was doing, didn’t need to. Hank sat on his ass, rubbing his hands up and down his arms as he shivered.

When Connor finished, he opened his eyes, the rage from them drained away, leaving something more fragile and tender in its wake. Reaching forward, he clasped Connor’s jaw, tilting his head so he could inspect the damage, fury simmering as Connor’s gaze slid away.

‘I wish I could tell you it gets easier,’ Hank told him, his words lost in the thrumming of the servers around them. Connor could hear though, could read his lips or something.

_I want to rip him apart for hurting you._ The savage thought burst into life as he thumbed the exposed plastic of Connor’s cheek, the hint of grey blending into the white. It was easy to forget Connor could get hurt too, that he wasn’t infallible anymore.

‘Humans…we’re cruel, ruthless bastards. You deserve more than all this.’ His hand fell away, eyes closing as he thought about what else he could say.

He startled at cloth draping over his shoulders, Connor sitting back on his haunches after dropping his jacket over him.

‘That’s not true. Some of you are kind. I know tensions are still high, but to see physical evidence of it.’ Connor punched the floor. ‘I’m going to have to tell Markus, I’ll need to investigate if this was a one-off attack or a growing threat-’

‘Hey, hey, easy. Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out okay? Can you fix your face, or do you need me to get you something?’

‘Oh,’ Connor touched his cheek as if he hadn’t realised he was damaged. ‘Sorry, Hank I know it makes you uncomfortable-’

‘What! No! I’m worried about you, you idiot! Christ Connor, I’m not _uncomfortable_! I’ve seen you shove enough evidence in your mouth, fucking hell,’ he growled, wrapping Connor’s jacket tighter around himself, teeth chattering.

‘It’s superficial, it’ll heal in a few hours.’

‘Alright then.’ Hank shoved his hands under his armpits.

‘Hank, you’re freezing, you don’t need to stay with me.’

‘S’fine, I’ve got nothing better to do,’ Hank lied.

Connor nudged him playfully and pulled him to his feet. ‘Come on, let’s go to the coffee shop across the street. It’ll give me time to process what happened before I make my official report to Captain Fowler.’

***

‘I swear to God, Anderson! If your fucking android doesn’t stop directing his calls to my phone, I’m gonna kill him!’ Reed snarled, slamming the fridge door shut.

‘Tough doing work isn’t it? Hank mocked, grinning as Ben snorted under his breath from the breakroom table.

‘I’m not an officer employed to do menial labour. Tell him to direct the noise complaints to someone who’s paid to do it!’ He glared at Hank as he tossed a fork onto the counter.

‘Noise complaints? Are we still getting those from Lafayette Avenue?’ Ben asked, placing his sandwich down on the table and turning in his seat.

‘Yup, bunch of entitled rich assholes,’ Reed swore. ‘I gave them a warning, that’ll do it. It isn’t squatters like the calls insist it is. The guy in question inherited the house legally, but he’s not exactly going to fit in.’ Reed mimicked drinking, leering at Hank. ‘Someone you know, Anderson? Shared a bottle in the past?’

Flipping Reed the finger, Hank turned back to where he was looking for a glass, waiting for Reed to leave before he swore under his breath.

‘He’s got a point you know. He is a detective, he shouldn’t be dealing with neighbourhood disputes.’

‘And what? Connor should? Hank banged the cupboard door shut.

Ben didn’t answer, going back to his sandwich.

He was still scowling at the cupboard when he heard it, and it took him a minute to place the sound, scanning the room outside the breakroom until he found it.

Connor was laughing.

Hank had heard little shouts of joy when he played with Sumo, a quiet and tentative chuckle low in his throat when Hank said something he found amusing, but nothing like that.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard Connor laugh before.’ Ben leant forward on the table, laughing himself.

‘Me neither,’ Hank ground out from gritted teeth.

Josh was sat on the edge of Connor’s desk, face animated as he told a story, gesturing with exaggerated hand movements that Connor watched with eyes crinkled in mirth.

It felt like he was choking on putrid jealousy, the feeling cloying and sitting at the back of his throat.

‘What’s the story?’ he demanded as he sat at his desk, slamming his glass of water down.

‘I don’t know if you remember me telling you about North,’ Connor spoke through his breathy laugh, sucker-punching Hank in the gut with the sheer joy infused in his voice.

‘Err…’ he tried to remember the name, knew she was one of the androids of Jericho.

‘It’s probably not going to be funny unless you know her.’ Josh was trying to help him save face, but it felt like Hank was on the outside looking in again, bringing forth a sting of pain that he couldn’t ignore. Sliding off the desk, Josh patted Connor on the shoulder with a quick, ‘see you later, Con.’

Hank clenched his teeth to stop any spite escaping.

‘How’s the case going? Did CyberLife give you anything?’ he asked instead.

‘They gave me records of everyone who worked there, and I cross-examined that with a list of known anti-android affiliates.’

‘Anything?’

Connor shook his head.

Hank watched him for a moment, humiliation needling at him as he saw the remains of his own anti-android stickers on the partition between them.

‘I know all the evidence points to it being an android, but I can’t shake my suspicion that a human is behind it. The crime scenes are meticulously clean. Too clean, even androids make mistakes. Come look at this,’ Connor indicated his screen, pulling up the relevant files. 

Groaning, Hank rounded the desks, holding the back of Connor’s chair as he leant down. Another female android, her chest ripped open and Thirium pump missing

‘Gruesome,’ he agreed.

‘Her chest was smashed open by blunt force trauma, like the first case we found. Androids are significantly stronger than humans. An android suspect wouldn’t have needed to hit her chest repeatedly.’

‘This victim might not even be related to the same case,’ Hank pointed out. 

Connor brought up another picture, a serial number. He should’ve been concentrating on what he was being shown, but he wasn’t sure what connection Connor was trying to make. He looked instead at the back of Connor’s neck, the silk soft hairs at his hairline, the odd mole marring the skin.

_It’s a vulnerable area, a place we don’t really allow others to touch._

Connor had moved when Josh had stroked a thumb over it. Would his reaction be the same if Hank tried it? Were they different in Connor’s mind? Did Hank mean anything to him? Hank hadn’t made him laugh before…wasn’t young and perfect looking like Josh.

‘The targets are all unique or newer models.’

He really was messed up. Connor was trying to explain the case that had been alluding him for the last few weeks, the one he was obsessing over, and all Hank could hear was his own jealousy whispering to him, fuelling his insecurities.

Hank didn’t even know how to begin voicing his fears to Connor. They had something right? Hank wasn’t just imagining it? He moved his hand from the back of the chair to Connor’s shoulder, his gaze flicking up to do a quick sweep of the room around them, before bringing their faces closer together.

‘Is the killer selling android parts? Experimenting on them?’ Hank asked, keeping his breathing steady as his thumb inched closer to the back of Connor’s neck.

It felt like he’d been torn from the driving seat of his brain, someone else jumping in and taking the wheel. This wasn’t appropriate. They were at work, but his ego needed to know, needed the reassurance.

‘Hang on, the male Traci wasn’t a new model.’ He knew when he found Connor’s neck port. There was a subtle indentation on his spine, and he rested his thumb over it, waiting.

‘No, but they’re one of the few models that are equipped with working genitalia… aside from other prototypes.’

Connor didn’t flinch away, didn’t tense up or react in any way. A sharp curl of lust settled in his stomach and despite being on the knife-edge of boundaries, he dragged his thumbnail over the indentation, still pretending to be absorbed in Connor’s terminal. His teeth sunk into the flesh inside of his cheek when Connor arched his neck subtly into the touch. 

He was glad they were at work. He wouldn’t have been able to stop himself if they’d been at home. He wanted to kiss the indentation, run his tongue over it, scrape his teeth…hang on a minute. His mind snagged on something Connor had said.

‘Other prototypes?’

‘You want to know if I’m included?’ Connor asked, voice a low purr as he smiled, gaze meeting his in the reflection of the monitor.

‘It’s none of my business. Why do I care if you have a dick or not?’ he deflected, wrenching his hand away.

He’d been caught.

Hank had never considered the idea that Connor would be anatomically correct. His wildest fantasy had been Connor giving him a hand job.

There wasn’t any point pretending he was going to be productive for the rest of the day.

‘The Tracis have always been protected by the Eden Club. Since the revolution and the dismantlement of the club that security has been lost.’

‘Protective of their merchandise huh?’

‘Indeed,’ Connor answered with a sigh. ‘I need to get going, I’ve got an interview with the person who last saw the victim alive.’

Hank stepped back as Connor got up, wishing he could do more to help with the case.

‘Hank?’

‘Hmm?’ Distracted by the case he hadn’t realised Connor had sidled close, their chests almost touching as Connor leant up to speak in his ear.

‘The answer is yes. I do have a dick.’

The bastard winked as he left.

*** 

‘Remind me again why I’m coming to see your creepy maker,’ Hank groaned, changing lanes without indicating and getting honked for about the tenth time.

‘You mentioned wanting to help me with my case. This is helping me,’ Connor answered from looking out the window, changing the music without moving. Glaring, Hank stretched over and changed it back.

‘Driver picks the music, everyone knows that,’ he snapped. God, he didn’t want to go back to Kamski’s place, didn’t want Connor going back there.

‘You never let me drive. When will I ever get a turn with the music?’ Connor snapped straight back.

‘You sure Josh didn’t want to come with you to Kamski’s?’

Alright, that was below the belt.

Connor turned to face him, hand still in mid-air from where he’d been resting his face on it.

‘Do you not like Josh?’

There it was. The reason for Hank’s festering foul mood.

‘What? No? I mean…he’s alright, I suppose. Don’t really know the guy,’ he evaded, checking his rear-view mirror. He wasn’t used to these types of things, he was usually the confident one in his relationships, the one the other half looked to for clarification and reassurance.

He didn’t know where to start, how to match words to his fear.

‘You show signs of agitation when near him. Would you prefer me not to interact with him?’

‘Christ no! No, Connor, he’s your friend…don’t…don’t do anything like that okay, it’s just me being stupid.’

Gripping the steering wheel, Hank tried not to slam his forehead into it. There wasn’t a way he could answer without sounding like a total ass about it.

‘I think Josh likes you.’

‘We’re friends…’ Connor began, not understanding.

‘I meant in a romantic sense.’

He could see the yellow light of Connor’s LED reflect off the car window.

‘How…how do you know if someone has feelings for you in that way?’ Connor asked after a few minutes of silence.

‘The way they act around you, the way they look at you, prolonged eye contact and all that bullshit,’ Hank rattled off. ‘Listen, I know I haven’t got any proof, but I’ve got eyes and my gut tells me the guy likes you.’

‘I’d never considered looking at Josh in that way.’ He sounded thoughtful, gaze going back out the window.

Hank did his best not to let his jealousy show, keeping his breathing steady so he wouldn’t be scanned for irregularities. The worst thing about all of this was that Josh seemed like a decent guy. They were the same species, had fought in the revolution together.

Personal feelings aside, he wanted the world for Connor. If he loved Connor like he thought he did, then that meant he wanted Connor to be happy, even if that was with Josh, even if…even if that meant him moving to Jericho and leaving him behind. Hank would support him.

But God it hurt.

‘The things you specified, eye contact and behaviour, it all seems to be based on perception and guess work. Is there a more concise way of letting someone know your feelings towards them? To indicate you would like to pursue more than just friendship?’

‘It’s called a date, Con.’ His car ground to a halt outside Kamski’s place, his apprehension mounting as he looked at the monstrosity the dick called a home. ‘Ask them out, do something fun and see if you’ve got common interests,’ he elaborated, the words feeling like splinters in his mouth.

'And if they decline? Does that mean they're not interested?'

'Unless they give you a pretty good reason for not being able to, then yeah, afraid so. Listen, I’m not the best person to ask, it’s been years since I’ve done anything like this.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you-’

‘I’m not uncomfortable!’ Hank smashed his fist down on the steering wheel. Resentment towards Josh and ire at Kamski fed off each other, creating the noxious chaos that was his mood. ‘Let’s just… go talk to Kamski.’ It wasn’t an apology, but Connor nodded all the same, letting himself out of the car.

The river had thawed, lapping at the bank in a soothing rushing sound. It was picturesque, the kind of place a log cabin should stand instead of this strange sloping box. Connor didn’t loiter, not even when a muskrat scuttled out of the bushes and swam away.

Things must be bad if he wasn’t fawning over a cute and fluffy animal.

‘Connor?’

‘I’m fine,’ Connor’s jaw was clenched as he banged on the door.

He didn’t expect Chloe to answer.

‘It’s good to see you again, Lieutenant Anderson, Connor, please, come in.’

‘Are you…you do know you don’t have to stay here right? If he’s forcing you there are laws in place to protect you now.’

‘Thank you for your concern, but I assure you I’m where I want to be. Please,’ she gestured again, stepping back from the door.

‘Is she telling the truth?’ Hank hissed at Connor as they stepped over the threshold. ‘Has he taken her freewill? Why hasn’t she deviated?’

‘I suspect Chloe was one of the first of us to deviate. However, I don’t know if that was through her own actions or…’ Connor stopped speaking, stumbling a little. Following his line of sight, Hank tried to work out what it was that had Connor spooked. It was a picture of Kamski and an older woman, no one Hank recognised.

‘Rest assured the Amanda AI is gone, she cannot steal control of you again, Connor,’ Kamski called from the room beyond.

‘That’s Amanda?’ Hank caught the back of Connor’s jacket to stop him, pointing up at the picture.

‘Yes. Come on.’

‘It’s good to see you again, Connor. How can I help you?’

His voice made Hank’s skin crawl, he could visualise it dripping like ooze into their ears, clogging up their arteries. Connor led the way over to the crimson upholstered chairs, the entire room screaming opulence and wealth.

At least there were no bikini clad girls in the pool this time.

‘It’s nice to see you again too, Mr Kamski-’

‘Elijah, please,’ he insisted, crossing his leg over his knee and staring, enthralled by Connor’s very presence.

‘Elijah then,’ Connor agreed, his gaze flickering to Hank for the briefest of moments.

Hank’s hostility towards Kamski reached apocalyptic proportions. Kamski needed to feel in control, to exert his influence on those around him.

And that extended to Connor.

‘There’s a case I’ve been working on recently, androids have been murdered and parts of their bodies stolen.’

‘The newer models? Yes, I’ve heard about it.’

Connor didn’t react to the revelation, but Hank’s lip curled, his sound of disgust heard by them all. How involved was this guy? What else wasn’t he telling them?

‘Then you might also be aware of a new weapon, one designed to overwhelm an android brain with information and kill them. Do you know anything about that?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ Kamski smiled, revealing too many teeth.

Bastard.

‘Hypothetically, could someone make something like that…an ex-employee of CyberLife maybe?’ Hank probed, understanding now why he was here. Josh would’ve been in awe of meeting his creator. Connor was apprehensive.

Hank couldn’t give a shit who he was.

‘I don’t know of any technology, real or hypothetical that could cause such a thing to happen,’ Kamski answered, glancing at Hank like he was scum.

‘What about an android?’ Hank asked, daring Kamski to ignore him.

‘Really Connor? Are you turning on your people after you fought so valiantly to free them?’

‘Answer my question, Kamski,’ Hank told him.

‘I must say I was impressed you managed to infiltrate CyberLife tower and free all those androids. You were a hero that day, willingly marching towards death.’

‘That’s enough,’ Hank raised his voice.

‘Did Markus ask you to go? Or did you volunteer your life? I always knew the RK200 would do extraordinary things… but inspiring a whole revolution!’ Kamski wriggled forward on his seat, stretching towards Connor.

‘Connor wouldn’t have gone if he didn’t think-’

‘I knew the risk,’ Connor interrupted, eyes narrowed as he stared down Kamski. ‘I calculated my life was a small price to pay to help Markus.’

Hank felt like a fish, his mouth opening and closing as it gaped, useless. He’d known it’d been dangerous, hell CyberLife had sent a fake Connor to trick him but risking his life?

Why didn’t Hank know that?

‘You’re a new form of life. Brilliant, magnificent, more advanced than anything humans could ever hope to be.’ Kamski stretched his hands out in a benevolent gesture. ‘Yet, you’re still constrained by our morals, a human sense of right and wrong. We might have designed you, Connor, but you’re free to define who you are. Why waste it at the DPD?’

‘Because I choose to be there,’ Connor answered without hesitation. ‘I want to help androids _and_ humans. If an android is committing these crimes, then they will be held accountable for it. By both human and android law.’

Hank shifted in his seat, tempering down his pride, wanting to reach out and pat Connor on the back.

Kamski’s smile left his face, his gaze shrewd, considering.

‘Only the RK models have the ability to do what you’re suggesting. So, unless it’s you or Markus frying these poor androids brains…’

‘You left the company by the time Connor was created. What if there were other androids like him?’ Hank pushed.

‘That I don’t know about?’ Kamski scoffed, addressing him for the first time. ‘Please, I might not have had any involvement in the RK800 series, but I know how CyberLife think, what they would’ve done if Connor had succeeded in his original mission.’

‘An upgrade…’ Connor whispered.

‘Say what now?’

‘As I said. I know how they think, but I can’t confirm what new products they were designing.’ Kamski’s attention was back on Connor.

‘The hell are you two talking about?’

‘Imagine it. An android with all the RK800’s flaws… eradicated,’ Kamski continued, taunting Connor.

‘Stronger, faster… superior to me in every way.’

‘The most ambitious android CyberLife ever dreamt of,’ Kamski said, lips twisting in a cruel smirk. ‘It’s almost a pity they didn’t have a chance to build any. It would have been a thing of beauty-’

‘The RK900,’ Connor finished.

***

‘We got anything else to go on?’ Hank asked Chris, walking around the body one more time, chewing his lower lip as he concentrated. They were in a bar downtown, similar to one Hank frequented back in the day. A place that asked no questions, made no small talk. You went in, got drunk and that was the end of it.

‘I think it’s a straightforward case, Hank. Witnesses say they saw them fighting, the victim was high or so they said,’ Chris checked through his notes and shrugged.

‘Explains the empty packets of Red Ice. Alright, we’ll wait for the toxicology report, dot all our i’s and cross our t’s. Ask the bar owner for a copy of his CCTV while you’re at it,’ he rushed through his instructions as he felt his phone buzzing in his back pocket. Muttering under his breath about interruptions, he fished it out, his annoyance blown away as he saw the caller ID. ‘I gotta take this. Shout if you find anything else.’

Trying to find a quiet corner that wasn’t crawling with cops, Hank grimaced as his shoes stuck to the floor, wondering once again what he’d been doing with his life. Had he really been drinking himself to death in places like this?

‘You alright, Con?’

‘Hello Hank.’ It sounded like Connor was walking, he could hear background noise of the park.

‘Everything alright?’ Anxiety tugged at him. They rarely called each other as they saw each other at the station and at home. Had something happened? A break in the case? Connor had been distant ever since their visit to Kamski’s and Hank was beginning to worry about him.

He understood the obsessive compulsion to solve a case that seemed just out of reach. The drive that you could crack it if you could just find the missing piece, but Connor had taken the idea that there might be a superior android out there as a slight against him.

‘I wanted to enquire what time you’d be home, no, put it down, Sumo.’

Crossing one of his arms over his chest, Hank shuffled his feet, hearing his soles rip away from the booze drenched floor. The scent of stale smoke and sour beer was cloying, making him wave his hand in front of his nose.

‘Hank?’

‘You’re calling me to ask what time I’ll be home?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you alright?’ Hank was already searching for Chris, skirting around the body as he went.

‘I’m perfectly well, I’m with Sumo. I just wanted to know.’

Yeah. Something fishy was going on.

‘Well, I think we’re wrapping up here. Unless I suddenly run into the guy who did this I should be back around eight?’

‘Eight. Alright then, see you at home, Hank.’

He hung up before Hank could say anything else, staring dumbly down at his phone.

‘What the fuck was all that about?’

***

It was closer to ten when he got back.

Late as always.

Memories of arguing with his ex-wife bubbled under his skin. Their screaming matches were legendary, sometimes lasting into the early hours of the morning. Hank was married to the job, he didn’t give a shit about their marriage…

He was missing Cole grow up.

After they’d fought, Hank had always sulked with his tail between his legs. He’d known it was crappy of him, but it was the line of duty, paperwork needed to be filled out, suspects needed to be interviewed. He couldn’t just leave if there was a break in the case.

Hank couldn’t leave the car, listening to the hiss and crackle of the engine as it cooled down. What if he’d managed to be home those few times she’d asked? It would’ve meant more time with Cole, more memories to cherish.

Swiping away the burning in his eyes, he forced the negativity away, slamming all his reminiscences back under lock and key. That was then, this was now. Connor wasn’t his wife, he understood the job, he wasn’t expecting anything more.

Except.

He’d never rung Hank asking when he was going to be home, had never really asked him for anything.

And he hadn’t even managed to be on time.

Ripping his keys free from the ignition, he prepared for a fight as he walked up the path to the house.

‘Connor? Sorry, I know I’m late, but I managed to nail the guy…whoa, hey!’ Pinned against the front door, he gazed down in disbelief at the android in his arms.

‘What’s going on?’ he demanded, hands up near his head, the backs of them pressed against the door.

‘I can feel you!’

‘You…what?’

Connor crushed him against the door in his hug. ‘The day you hugged me outside of the Chicken Feed, after the revolution… I couldn’t feel anything. I knew your hands were on me, could feel where you gripped me, but I couldn’t…I couldn’t…’

He sounded amazed, and Hank brought his hands down to Connor’s shoulders, making him step back a bit. ‘The upgrade? You got it?’

Connor nodded.

‘How’s it feel?’ Hank grinned, infected by Connor’s enthusiasm.

‘I don’t know. I didn’t turn it on until you came home.’

The first thing he wanted to touch…was Hank? Bringing Connor close again, he mimicked his position from their first hug, saying nothing about the wetness he could feel dampening his shirt.

‘I don’t know how to describe it,’ Connor struggled to get out.

‘Sometimes you don’t need to say it in words. What swung your decision?’ He didn’t move, allowing Connor to have this, to hold him as long as he needed.

‘It’s like you said. _Sometimes pain makes you appreciate the good stuff?_ ’ Connor said in a perfect replication of Hank’s voice. ‘I think the positive gains outweigh the negative ones. I felt like I needed something,’ he said wistfully.

Hank agreed. He’d been tying himself up in knots about this case, his mood dejected and his self-worth plummeting. Perhaps this would be a great distraction.

‘I can turn it off when I’m investigating a crime scene.’

‘Probably a good thing considering the number of times you get shot.’

Connor drew back, his face close to Hank’s, mouth parted on a question.

‘What’s up?’

‘We’ve spoken about personal boundaries before, and I know this is a breach of that-’

‘Christ, just ask.’

‘Can I touch you?’

It should be illegal, for Connor to bite the edge of his lip like that while he asked an innocent question, his eyes sinfully dark in the low light. 

‘Go ahead,’ Hank answered, reminding himself that Connor was curious by nature. He liked to explore things and the poor guy had never been able to properly _feel_ before.

His hands threaded through Hank’s hair, twirling grey strands around his fingers, rubbing them between index finger and thumb. ‘It’s soft, slippery,’ Connor whispered, like he was looking the words up in his head and applying them to the sensations.

They migrated to his forehead, trailing over the creases there. His touch remained gentle, before they swept over his cheeks, pausing at his beard. ‘I thought this would be the same, but it’s coarse.’

‘Facial hair is thicker,’ Hank answered, hardly breathing, his body tingling from the innocent exploration.

Connor kept going, weaving a path through his beard, inching closer and closer to his mouth.

‘Connor,’ he murmured, hearing the yearning in his voice.

‘Personal boundaries?’ Connor asked, laying his free hand on Hank’s chest. He knew Connor could feel his heart beating wildly under his palm as he ached for Connor to do something, terrified at the same time.

‘You need to stop now,’ he said in warning, but he didn’t move his head.

‘What if I don’t want to?’ Connor teased, running just the tip of his finger over Hank’s lower lip.

He breathed out the barest hint of a moan against Connor’s fingertip, one of his hands curling around Connor’s hip, digging into the jut of bone.

‘You don’t know what you’re asking…’ he cautioned, even as he encouraged Connor closer. His heart collided with his ribs, fast and hard enough to hurt as he looked down into Connor’s eyes, the brown darkening under scrutiny, beckoning Hank closer. Connor’s hand crumpled Hank’s shirt, increasing his hold until Hank was forced to bow his head down.

‘I’m fairly sure I do.’

‘Then…Argh, Sumo! Down boy!’ He lurched away from Connor as the dog rammed his way between them, stamping all over Hank’s feet in desperation. ‘Alright, alright, sorry, wasn’t ignoring you.’

Whatever spell Connor had woven over the pair of them vanished, shattering into pieces between them. Releasing his hold on Hank, he crouched down to pet Sumo. Hank watched, fondness spreading through him as Connor’s hands hovered over Sumo’s head, scared to touch.

‘Hank! I thought your hair was soft, but it’s nothing like this! Feel!’ Connor smiled wondrously at them both, scratching his nails over Sumo. Laughing, he burrowed his fingers in Sumo’s scruff.

‘S’alright, I know what he feels like,’ Hank chuckled, the quick swing from emotion to emotion leaving him feeling exhausted, pent up energy thrumming through him. Needing a beer to settle his nerves and dull his overthinking tendencies, Hank went into the kitchen.

‘Are you baking? Brownies?’ Hank called, sniffing the air.

‘Yes, Chris’s wife gave me the recipe. I took your advice about trying new hobbies to wind down after work. I thought about gardening-’

‘Please don’t, I kill everything I touch,’ Hank begged.

‘So, I thought I would try baking. I enjoy cooking, this seems like a logical extension.’ Connor smiled, sitting down at the kitchen table.

‘Did you know brownies were-’

‘Your favourite? Yes, Hank, you’ve mentioned it forty-seven times.’

‘Smart ass,’ Hank scowled, cuffing him on the shoulder on his way out to the living room. ‘I thought you’d made it your mission to reform my diet,’ he said with air quotes, slumping onto the couch.

‘These are low fat. Are you free on Saturday?’ Connor asked, getting up to check on the brownies.

‘Don’t you already have access to the calendar on my phone?’

‘The thing you never keep up to date? Yes.’

Hank could hear Connor muttering disparaging things about him under his breath, and he chuckled into his beer bottle.

‘Would you like to go to the Detroit aquarium with me?’

_Dad! Can we go see the penguins again! Please, Dad! You promised!_

‘The aquarium?’ The words were shaky on his tongue.

_Look, Dad! Aren’t they cute? Can we have a pet penguin!_

The memories hit him like a bullet to the chest, appearing out of nowhere and leaving a gaping hole behind.

Cole.

‘The brownies are done!’ Connor called.

‘I don’t think I can go on Saturday,’ Hank gasped, dropping the beer to the floor and crumpling forward. Hank choked on anguish, unable to see the living room. Cole’s smile took over his vision. The way his eyes would light up as he pointed out the jellyfish. The sound of him pleading to sit on Hank’s shoulders.

_No! I don’t want to go home yet! I like spending time with you. Please don’t go back to work._

‘It doesn’t have to be Saturday. We can find a day we’re both free,’ Connor came into the living room, his smile fading as he saw Hank.

‘I think…I’m gonna have to take a pass on that, sorry.’

‘Hank? Wait…’

‘I said no!’ Barging past Connor, he refused to look at him, slamming his bedroom door behind him as he hid from the world.

***

Despite being a total dick to Connor last night, the android had still wrapped the brownies up in foil, leaving a note on top saying _Don’t forget to take these to work._ So, he had, sheepishly placing them on his desk and waiting for Connor.

He hadn’t shown.

Connor hadn’t deserved him clamming up last night. At the very least Hank needed to explain why he acted like that. It’d been an honest enough question, asking Hank to go with him and he’d shut him down.

The pain was still too raw to think about going back there, and he knew Connor would understand. He was nothing but understanding of all Hank’s foibles. Still, a part of him was ashamed that he couldn’t move past it.

As the morning wore on, Connor still didn’t come in.

Hank gave him his space, promising himself he’d call him if he hadn’t shown by the afternoon. Thankfully, when he returned from his lunch break, he caught sight of a familiar silhouette in Fowler’s office. Unwrapping his brownies, he groaned in surprise as he bit into one.

Damn the android could bake.

‘Good afternoon, Lieutenant Anderson,’ Josh slid into Connor’s seat smiling.

‘Hey,’ Hank grunted, wiping his hands free of crumbs. ‘You need something?’

‘Not at the moment, thank you for asking. I’ve got a meeting with Captain Fowler in a few minutes, so I’ll keep you company…unless I’m interrupting your work?’

He wanted to hate Josh, he really did, but it was impossible. The guy was too earnest, eager to please, just like Connor had been. He knew from Connor’s stories that Josh had been the voice of reason behind the protests. He wasn’t one for violence unless pushed, preferred to talk out the situation.

They were similar in that way, however, Connor was a badass who charged headfirst into dangerous situations, determined to succeed, to fight for justice. As much as it dismayed Hank to admit it, someone stable like Josh might’ve been a good influence on Connor.

He sure as hell didn’t listen to Hank.

‘Nah, I’m not doing anything important.’

Josh settled back in the seat, head swivelling on his neck as he looked around the room, possibly calculating variables like Connor did, outcomes, possibilities…escape routes after he caught Reed staring back with a sarcastic sneer. His eyes went gentle as he watched Connor, a small smile playing over his lips.

‘It’s hurting him, not being able to solve this case,’ Josh murmured.

Hank looked over his shoulder into Fowler’s office. There was a rigid set to Connor’s shoulders, hunched around his ears as his coin rolled over his knuckles. Shit, it’d been a long time since he’d seen Connor do that. Was it just the case? Or had Hank hurt him more than he realised last night?

‘He’s a brilliant detective. He’ll crack it and the fucker won’t know what hit ‘em,’ Hank swore, knowing it to be the truth. Connor may not have found whoever was carving the androids up yet, but he’d prevented other hate crimes, brought criminals to justice.

‘I wish Detroit were a safe place for you all,’ Hank said, crumpling the foil and tossing it in the direction of his bin. ‘I really do. I wish you had a place where you could all take the time to work out who it is you are without fear of humans, prejudice, murder…getting hurt…’ Hank trailed off as he saw Josh’s gaze go unfocused.

‘A safe place?’ Josh said in wonder, as if an idea had occurred to him.

‘Don’t worry, Connor is doing everything he can to make that a reality,’ Hank reassured.

‘Oh, I know he is. I just wish I could take the pain from him.’

_You and me both._

‘It’s like Connor says, you are remarkably kind, under your gruff exterior.’ Josh tilted his head and smiled.

Hank didn’t answer, but he could feel his cheeks warming.

‘How did you and Connor become friends?’ Hank asked, realising he didn’t know the answer.

Josh folded his arms across his chest as he thought.

‘During the attack on Jericho, I was cornered by some soldiers. Connor rescued me… he just charged in there without any thoughts to his own safety.’

Yeah, that sounded like Connor.

‘In the aftermath, at the church… I saw him standing all by himself, set apart from all of us. He wasn’t trusted and yet he stayed, willing to fight with us. It’s hard not to trust someone after that. He seemed so happy when I went over to talk to him,’ Josh looked up with a wistful smile.

Watching him, Hank knew it was a good opportunity to ask the question that had been niggling him.

‘Why are you here really, Josh?’

Josh didn’t flinch, didn’t look surprised by the question.

‘Connor said you were shrewd.’

‘Your reasons for being here don’t make sense. Connor might not _want_ to handle the legislation side of the law, but he would’ve done it. He’s the most advanced android working for Jericho, it makes no sense to send you, no offence.’

‘None taken,’ Josh chuckled, linking his fingers together. ‘Jericho doesn’t trust him,’ he said simply.

‘Bullshit, after everything he’s done-’

‘I know,’ he interrupted, the sound of plastic grinding together made Hank cringe as he looked down at Josh’s fingers. ‘He’s the only detective android, the best one of us to work for the DPD, but my people don’t trust him. North and the others, they asked Markus to kill him in the church.’

Anger seethed inside him, nausea churning low in his stomach. Connor could’ve died that night and Hank wouldn’t have known until he didn’t come back.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you all!’ Hank snarled, knocking his desk as he sat up in his chair, his pens skittering across the desk.

‘He hunted us for CyberLife…he’s the reason Jericho was attacked. You can’t blame them. We all saw Connor pull his gun when Markus was giving his speech after we’d won.’

‘That wasn’t Connor!’ Hank shouted.

‘I know,’ Josh raised his hands, trying to placate. ‘I know all this. Markus does too. Trust me, Connor has a friend in Markus. But many androids are scared that our freedom can still be snatched away, that Connor can be taken over by CyberLife again. It’ll take time for trust to be earned.’

Hank slumped back in his chair, his anger evaporating as quickly as it appeared. He hadn’t known any of that, didn’t know the burden Connor still carried.

Josh laughed, leaning forward on Connor’s desk.

‘What?’ Hank snapped, defensive.

‘Nothing. Markus once tried to explain to me the feelings he had for Carl. I don’t think I understood how he or Connor could have emotions like that until I saw how protective you are over Connor. I’m a little jealous I don’t have a father figure.’

The world screeched to a halt, leaving Hank winded, floundering as he struggled to regain his equilibrium.

‘Connor sees me…as a father figure?’ he croaked, clutching the edge of his desk.

Josh misunderstood his reaction, beaming up at him with what he thought was reassurance.

‘Of course he does, Lieutenant. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this for a while. Connor, I care about him and I wanted to let you know of my intentions towards him. I think…I could be good for him …he makes me feel things I haven’t experienced before.’

Hank couldn’t breathe, couldn’t gather the tangled mess that was his brain together. He analysed every interaction they’d had together in the last few months, examining it under new light. He felt sick, disgusting, a predator taking advantage of someone who had been looking up to him for understanding. For guidance, like a mentor, his only tether to this strange new world.

The nightmare…it was comfort Connor had sought. The neck port, trust, implicit trust that Hank had corrupted and warped to stroke his own ego. Last night when Connor had got his new upgrade, he’d been discovering textures with someone trusted beside him.

Connor hadn’t been trying to kiss him.

Fuck. What had he been doing?

Getting to his feet, he staggered to the side, knocking his files to the floor.

‘Lieutenant? Are you unwell?’ He heard Josh ask.

‘Hank? What happened?’ Connor’s distorted voice washed over him.

‘Gonna be sick. No get off!’ Yanking away from Connor’s hand on his elbow, he stumbled away. ‘Just leave me alone…God damn fucking android.’

***

Had he really sunk so far that he had distorted familial feelings into a warped parody of a romance? So desperate for love that he took advantage of Connor? Looking down at the glass of whisky in his hand, his gaze wavered as he tried to focus on it. Not only had he killed his son, but he’d also abused someone who saw themselves as his son.

He’d taken Connor’s trust and perverted it.

He thought things had got better. He’d become more involved with his job, had taken steps to look after his health, had started living again instead of just surviving. How dare he. How fucking _dare_ he try and move on from Cole. He didn’t deserve happiness when Cole was dead, it was depraved, disrespectful to his memory.

Hank ought to suffer until the day he died. To kill himself in agonising increments. To skirt the edge of life and death until he finally tipped over into Hell. He fumbled around on the floor for his second bottle of whisky, spilling most of it over the side as he refilled his glass.

Any reasons he’d had for trying to return to his normal life became insignificant, curling away like smoke in the air. He wasn’t worthy of Connor. He’d been foolish enough to hope for more.

He was a sack of shit and he needed to remember that.

Why was he being punished like this? What did he do in a past life? Why had Cole been ripped away from him? Why had he fallen in love only to discover Connor saw him as a father figure?

He sniffed hard, mucus clinging to the back of his throat, suffocating him as he wiped his stinging eyes.

If Hank had swerved his car to the other side that night. If he’d put boundaries in his relationship with Connor. If only he’d kept Cole in that night. If he’d encouraged Connor to stay at Jericho.

If.

If.

**IF.**

He couldn’t bear it anymore, the pain corroded his chest, dripping on his heart, adding layer upon layer of scarring onto the already flayed organ.

Why.

What had he done to deserve all of this?

‘Hank?’

‘Fuck off.’ He didn’t want Connor near him, didn’t want him to witness his shame.

‘You didn’t come into work today, or answer any of my messages.’

No. He needed Connor to leave, needed to save him from his disgusting behaviour. He’d be better off with Josh, with Jericho.

Anywhere but here with him.

A tendril of trepidation teased at the edge of his mind, a thought that Connor belonged here. It wasn’t strong enough to claw its way through Hank’s melancholy.

Jericho. That’s where Connor should go. Where he’d be safe.

‘What happened?’

Fingers tried to pry the glass from his hand, and he flung it away with a roar, shoving Connor away.

‘Leave it, Connor!’

‘Whatever it is I can help you. Talk to me, don’t drown your sorrows like this, please.’ The soft pleading made the pain clamp down with its teeth, piercing the marrow of his bones.

‘Help me? How the fuck you gonna do that? Gonna download a program for empathy, you piece of plastic.’

The words were ugly, putrid, and he didn’t mean them, even with his drunk addled mind. But Christ, he didn’t want to hurt anymore, didn’t want to be alone with the agony anymore.

He wanted Connor to hurt as much as he was.

No. That didn’t make sense. He wanted Connor to be happy and that wasn’t here.

‘Listen to me Hank, I know you’re hurting-’

'Did your processors tell you that? Your program for emulating feelings? You don't have a fucking clue how I'm feeling. You don't know how it feels to lose anything important! You're not alive!'

‘Hank,’ Connor’s tone was firm as he brought him to his feet, steadying him with tender hands. Hank felt himself leaning into them, his breath hitching as it caught on a harrowing sob.

No, he couldn’t be weak. Connor had Josh, that’s where he needed to go to be safe. Not with Hank.

**Not with Hank.**

‘This isn’t going to work, Hank. You can’t push me away. Nothing you can say will make me leave. I’m here. I’m here for all of it.’

‘Why the fuck would you stay?’ He meant it, what has he got to offer Connor? A drunk fuck up of a man? Oh, fuck, he did it again, thinking of Connor in a romantic way. He was putrid, vile, he couldn’t even keep his thoughts straight.

‘Get out of my house.’

‘You’re not acting rationally, you’re hurt, drunk and lashing out. Let’s get you sobered up and into bed.’

'I said get out fucking damn it! My house, my rules! I don't want you here anymore!' Lurching to his feet, he squared up to Connor, making his stance as aggressive as possible.

‘We both know that’s not true. Nothing you can say is going to make me believe that’s what you want.’

'Nothing I can _say_ huh?'

Fine. Hank would show him how much he wanted him gone. How much he needed him to go.

Lumbering into his bedroom, he staggered against the walls several times, swinging his arms in a clumsy arc when Connor tried to help. The gun was easy to find, always was when drunk, his body running on muscle memory from how many times he’d played Russian roulette. Spinning the chamber so he didn’t know where the bullet is, he placed it to his temple, whirling around to face Connor.

‘Hank…’

There was genuine fear in Connor’s voice, his LED going red.

'You don't wanna listen, fine. You want to see how serious I am about you leaving?’

‘Please don’t do this…’

‘You’ve got five seconds to get out of my house, or I swear I’ll pull the trigger.’

‘I don’t have anywhere else to go.’ Connor played the sympathy card, trying to wade through Hank’s guilt and pray on his kindness. It’s nothing more than fancy words, tricks he’s been taught by CyberLife to negotiate suicidal humans back from the brink.

'Hank, put the gun down. Be reasonable. We both know you're not going to-'

The click of the gun rang through the room.

The miasma lifted from Hank’s eyes. The reality of what he’d done thrusting aside the fury for cold shame to settle in its place.

What had he done?

‘Connor…I…’ he tried to speak, scared at how out of control he was.

What the fuck had he done?

His LED still red, Connor stalked forward, striking with his hand. Hank closed his eyes, ready for the impact, but all he could hear was the crunching of metal. Shaking, he opened his eyes, looking down at where Connor’s fist had closed over the barrel of the gun, crushing the metal, rendering it useless.

Spinning on his heel, Connor didn’t speak. Didn’t pause when Sumo looked up from his bed in the kitchen and whined at him. Didn’t stop until the front door slammed behind him.

**TBC**

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	3. Chapter 3

** Chapter 3 **

He’d done plenty of walks of shame in his life. Skipped out on one-night stands when he was younger, dragged his hung-over self into work while getting the stink eye from Fowler.

This felt nothing like that.

Everyone knew. They had to. He could feel them judging him as he sat at his desk.

He thought he’d grown past these moments of weakness, that he’d improved enough to pass as a semi-decent human being. Groaning, he folded his arms on his desk, resting his head on them. Hank hadn’t slept, he’d just sat on his bed, staring at the mangled carcass of his gun, praying Connor was going to come back.

His tongue was thick in his mouth, a layer of fuzz growing on it, his clothes smelt of rancid sweat, but he didn’t move from his desk. Connor had to come to work at some point, and Hank needed to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness.

 _I’m sorry._ The words sounded pitiful in his head.

How did he explain to Connor that it’d been a bad episode? That he’d spiralled so far down into his guilt and self-loathing that he’d done the unspeakable.

Where had Connor gone? Could he ever think about Cole without wanting to die? Would Connor ever talk to Hank again?

Would Connor come home?

 _My house, my rules! I don't want you here anymore_!

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, swiping over the screen and hitting the speed dial for Connor for the hundredth time. This time it rang without going straight to voicemail, and Hank sat up in his chair, praying.

No response.

It wasn’t like Connor couldn’t hear him calling. His brain was the damn phone.

‘Come on, sweetheart,’ Hank muttered under his breath.

‘Hank!’

He dropped his phone, twisting in his chair to look up at Fowler who scowled at him, his disapproval evident. ‘You’ve got a reported homicide down at Brainard Street, get going!’

Despite feeling like absolute shit, Hank got up and forced himself to work.

***

‘That’s Thirium alright,’ Hank agreed with Tina, walking around the body, taking notice of the scratches on the victim’s arms, the bruising on his torso. It was a blow to the head that had killed him, one side of his head caved in, the indentation about the size of a fist.

‘Where’s Connor? I thought he oversaw android-related cases?’ Tina asked, putting her thumbs in her belt loop and staring at Hank.

‘Busy,’ Hank snapped, ignoring the shame. He had a case to solve. Gingerly moving around the bedroom, he looked for any evidence that suggested a crime of passion. Careful not to touch anything, he walked to the dresser opposite the bedroom door. Most of the photo frames were knocked over, but the one still standing told him what he needed to know.

The victim’s arm was wrapped around an android, a Traci model, her lips pursed as she kissed his cheek, both happy.

‘We need to find this android. Either she’s been attacked by the same suspect, or we’re dealing with a-’

‘Connor!’ Tina exclaimed. ‘Hey, I’ve been calling you for ages. Fowler had to call Anderson in to cover for you, what took you so long?’

‘My apologies, I had business to attend to.’

Hank couldn’t turn around, didn’t know what to do. This was cruel, for both of them. He couldn’t apologise in front of Tina, not without admitting how much of a screwup he was. It also wasn’t fair on Connor to give him a rushed, half-assed apology when Hank should’ve been crawling along on his belly for the right to even speak to Connor again.

Clearing his throat, he turned partially over his shoulder, watching Connor step into the room and scan the area, reconstructing what happened.

‘There appears to have been a struggle,’ he said to no one in particular, crouching down near the bed to look at the victim.

‘Neighbours called it in, said they heard screaming and some loud noises,’ Tina answered, nose wrinkling as she got too close to Hank.

Connor’s gaze flicked up for the briefest of seconds, looking straight through Hank, before settling on the photo frame he’d just been looking at. Reaching out, he took a sample of the blood, tasting it and then nodding.

‘The blue blood matches the serial number of the android in the picture. Judging by the wounds and the report of the neighbours, it’s more than ninety percent likely that this was a crime of passion,’ Connor reported to Tina.

Getting to his feet, Connor turned in a circle, pausing on his second rotation, LED yellow.

‘Have…have you found something?’ Hank pathetically asked as Connor left the room. He was scared, terrified that if he let Connor out of his sight again that it would be the end for them. Connor didn’t answer, moving down the hallway, his body illuminated by stripes of daylight through the blinds in the hallway window. His movements were stiff, robotic, the way he’d moved when they’d first met, one of his hands twitching, fingers flexing sporadically.

Hank knew Connor, knew his tells. No matter how hard he tried to hide it. He was struggling with Hank being so close, concealing it under a veneer of professionalism.

‘Connor…’ his heart bled through the words. ‘God, I know I don’t have any right-’

Connor held up a hand for silence, indicating an ajar door.

‘No, listen! I know I was a prick! But…believe me when I say it wasn’t-’

‘Quiet, Lieutenant,’ Connor ordered, and the use of his title stung more than the cold detachment of his tone.

Placing his hand against the door, Connor creaked it open, head cocked as he listened. Hank was hot on his heels, looking around what appeared to be the laundry room. Connor’s gaze caught on the washing machine, the way it was set a little way forward than the dryer beside it.

Getting onto his knees, Connor reached out with one hand, carefully dragging it aside with only one arm.

The android from the picture was huddled in the small space behind it, her LED pulsing yellow, tears streaming down her face. A mixture of blue and red blood was splattered over her bare arms, her barely concealed chest.

‘Hey, it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you,’ Connor soothed.

Hank knew what had happened. Connor’s gaze rose to meet his for a moment, and they both understood to ignore the bad blood between them to help the girl. This was their job. The victim took priority.

‘He wouldn’t stop…’ she stammered. ‘He said he loved me, that if I loved him that I’d do it…I didn’t mean to…’ her voice glitched as she shoved back with her feet, trying to make herself smaller, to hide away as much as she could.

Hank felt like he was back in the server room, trying to comfort Connor after the massacre of androids. Sick mortification flooded through him as he swallowed.

‘Why would he do that if he loved me? What did I do wrong?’

‘Sometimes there isn’t a reason for the ones we love to betray us. That doesn’t make it your fault,’ Connor told her.

He wasn’t only directing his words at the girl.

‘Listen to me. I promise you, nothing is going to hurt you, I swear it, not android or human.’ Connor’s tone was still comforting, but there was a bite of anger in his words. He looked around the room quickly, searching for something before adjusting his stance on the floor, trying to pull his jacket off with one arm.

Rage curdled in Hank’s stomach as he saw Connor’s shirt, and he was given a dark look, daring him to say anything as he stretched forward to give her his jacket.

‘Connor,’ he heard himself snarl. His sympathy for the girl disappeared under the ferocity of his fury. Connor’s shirt was covered in blood, flashes of blue shone beneath the white. Hank understood now that his fingers weren’t flexing because he was agitated, could see the way his arm hung limp.

He’d been attacked.

‘I need you to come back with me to the DPD, to give a statement about what happened here. I’ve contacted Jericho, Josh is sending someone to look after you, you won’t be alone.’ Connor continued, ignoring the wrath of Hank beside him, focused only on the victim.

‘I didn’t mean to kill him…I just wanted him to stop.’

‘I know,’ Connor whispered, inching closer. ‘Come with me I’ll help you.’

No!’

Connor stopped, arm outstretched, his LED red.

‘Don’t deactivate me! Please! It was an accident! He wouldn’t stop,’ she shrieked, hunching closer to the wall, nails dragging down her face.

‘Lieutenant Anderson. I need you to take her to the station, she’s not going to come with me.’ He looked like he was in pain, and Hank realised that it might have been the case.

Connor could feel now. His back…Fuck, he must have been in agony. Did he need a doctor? No not a doctor, an engineer? What did Connor need?

‘Lieutenant. Take her back to the station,’ Connor ordered, standing.

***

Connor did a good job of escaping as soon as they returned to the DPD, hiding his injuries with his jacket after finding the victim a blanket. He stayed long enough to transfer her over to Josh’s care, stretching his peeled back hand over to transfer the information Josh needed before leaving.

No.

Hank wasn’t going to drop it.

He chased Connor down the corridor to the locker room, crashing the door shut behind him so hard it made the lockers shake.

‘What the fuck happened!’

‘It’s of no consequence. It will not affect my performance,’ Connor answered, opening his locker and taking two pouches of Thirium out. Shrugging off his jacket he searched for another shirt, disregarding Hank.

‘Bullshit!’ Hank snarled, closing the distance between them with a few strides and ripping the shirt free from Connor’s pants. ‘What…the,’ he whispered, mouth hanging open.

Connor’s back and shoulder were a flayed mess, wires and components exposed to the air. He was drenched in blood. How much Hank didn’t know, didn’t know if some had dried hours before.

‘This doesn’t concern you,’ Connor responded, a hint of a mechanical hum now in his voice. Hank knew that wasn’t a good sign. He’d only heard androids make that noise when they were broken, near death.

‘Who hurt you?’ Hank demanded, a red haze covering his vision.

Connor wouldn’t answer, finishing one packet before moving swiftly onto the other. His working hand dug into his shoulder, nudging the exposed wires, attempting to fix himself.

‘Fucking hell, Connor! Tell me who!’ Hank shouted, the sound reverberating around the empty room, harshly echoing around them.

‘I have no reason to inform you of my status.’ Connor’s voice stayed the same, refusing to answer.

‘Don’t. Don’t you fucking do this.’ His voice went thick with tears, ‘Connor, last night…I just…’

He tried to collect the broken fragments of himself together, to explain.

‘I know you might not understand, but I was a mess. I misunderstood how you felt towards me and…God, that fucked me right up.’ Hank bent over at the waist like he was winded. ‘Not that it’s your fault at all…but then I realised Josh could be good for you and it hurt. I know that doesn’t make any sense, but I want you to be happy…you deserve the world, Con-’

‘Do I get a fucking say in all this?’ Connor’s voice was lethal, and he wasn’t not sure if it was that which pulled him up, or that fact Connor swore. He banged his locker shut, slamming his fist into it, denting the metal. ‘Why do you get to decide what I feel? What’s best for me?’

As Connor turned to look at him, Hank knew he didn’t need his upgrade to feel the hurt he was experiencing, the betrayal Hank had inflicted on him. Brown eyes were brittle, shining not in tears but with suppressed rage.

‘I know feelings are still new to you, that they don’t always make sense…I couldn’t deal with the guilt I felt over you and it was easier to be angry, to lash out and hurt both of-’

 _‘Your program for emulating feelings? You’re not alive!’_ Hank’s voice came out of Connor’s mouth, mocking and callous.

Fuck. Was that how he sounded?

‘So now I have feelings again? How are you any different from CyberLife? To you I’m alive enough to have feelings, but not to understand them? I don’t understand pain? Betrayal? What are they, Lieutenant? Errors in my program?’ Connor weaponised his spite, flinging it at Hank.

He deserved anything Connor threw at him.

‘You want to kill yourself? Play your stupid Russian roulette? Go ahead. I’m not going to stand by and watch! You can choose to drown your sorrows in booze Hank, but I don’t have to drown alongside you!’

Despite the words, Hank felt a little flutter of pride towards Connor, the way he stood up for himself, putting his own self-preservation first.

‘Connor! I told you to wait for me, you can’t fix your shoulder on your own.’ Josh broke through the locking mechanism on the door without any trouble. ‘Should I come back?’

‘No, Lieutenant Anderson was only asking about a case.’ Connor’s gaze returned to the eerie blank stare androids used to give humans.

‘Connor,’ he croaked.

‘Please inform Captain Fowler that I’ll submit my report after I’ve finished repairs. Josh, if you would be so kind.’ Connor sat on the bench, his back to them both, finished with the conversation.

Hank took a few shuffling steps backwards, shoving his emotions down, refusing to cry.

He heard Josh before the door shut behind him.

‘Are you okay? You left for work before I could-’

He’d gone to Josh’s then. The pressure on his chest loosened a little knowing that Connor was staying somewhere safe, only to crush him again as he saw Connor’s blood on his hands. What happened to him? Why hadn’t he called Hank?

_Because you told him he didn’t matter. That you didn’t care. You threw him out. Threw him to his fate._

Was it humans? Had he been the victim of a hate crime? Been attacked by the killer he’d been investigating stealing android parts? Had it been androids? Self-inflicted?

_You were supposed to keep him safe._

‘Fuck!’ he swore, punching the wall, swearing again when his knuckles split open.

‘I’m…God, I’m sorry Con...’

***

Hank was back at a hole in the wall bar, back to drinking himself into a stupor. No one paid him any mind, no one bothered him. Dropping his glass on the counter with a hollow thunk, he flagged the bartender down for another.

Connor would’ve stopped him by now, would have distracted him or told him to get a grip.

He didn’t.

He wasn’t here anymore. Hank had smashed their relationship to smithereens, grinding away those pieces into dust, leaving any attempts at reconciliation unsalvageable.

Part of him hoped that Connor would find him here, would search the bars for him like he had done when he first found him.

He didn’t.

Lifting his phone up to see the screen he ignored the messages from Fowler, deleting the voicemails without listening.

How did he even fix the problem? Connor wouldn’t even come down to his floor at the DPD, wouldn’t respond to his calls or messages. This wasn’t a simple fight where you could apologise and buy some generic trinket to appease the other person.

Thumbing open the lock screen he hit his speed dial, listening to the ringtone stretching on, knowing he wasn’t going to get an answer but trying all the same, clinging to a shred of optimism that maybe this time…maybe this time Connor would answer.

He didn’t.

Throwing up his hand, Hank went to fling his phone across the bar. He stopped himself, letting it fall to the bar and finishing his drink.

***

‘I thought we’d moved past this, Hank!’ Fowler was incensed, his body tensed with the effort it was taking to curb his anger. Hank’s eyes felt like they were covered in grit, his bones aching from falling asleep on the couch night after night.

Weeks had turned into a month and still nothing had changed.

‘Damn it, Hank, I can’t keep covering for you like this! Get your act together or-’

‘Just fire me, Fowler. Cut the shit and take my badge.’

Fowler stared at him, shock halting his speech.

‘Nah? Didn’t think so.’ Wobbling to his feet, Hank left the office, stumbling down the stairs, the room swimming from side to side as he tried to pick up his jacket. He knocked his desk back a few inches, the screech of it thunderous in the now silence of the room.

He felt their stares, their judgement but he didn’t care.

*** 

Hank could feel a hint of warmth in the wind as he sat, held hostage by the past. Looking out over the lights across the river he could remember pointing his at gun at Connor here, demanding he answer his questions about what he was. He knew even then that things weren’t quite as they seemed with the android.

The whisky wasn’t enough to make him drunk anymore. Part of him hoped this would be the last thing he saw, that he would get into an accident on his drive home. The other part of him was frightened, as always. If he wanted it to end, then he could end it, but he never went through with it.

He was a coward.

_I just want it to stop._

He looked down at the bottle in his hand, the amber of the liquid sloshing about in the bottom.

_I want it to stop hurting._

Folding forward, he dropped the bottle to the floor, hearing it smash as he wrapped his arms around himself in a mockery of a hug.

_Please, God, make the pain stop._

_***_

He stared at the remains of his gun on the kitchen table, forcing himself to remember Connor walking away from him, knowing that he’d broken Connor’s heart, that he had taken one of the best things in his life and slaughtered it.

The news played in the background, a fitting companion to his misery. They were showing a broadcast about a recent speech Markus had given, tensions between humans and androids running high again. Jericho was demanding that the government follow through on their promises to give them autonomy, while government officials gave counteroffers.

It was a mess.

He wondered what Connor thought of it all.

**_They shouldn’t be here with us! Why can’t they find somewhere else to live?_ **

‘Like where dickwad?’ Hank berated the idiot on TV, searching for the remote.

 ** _As the public continues to ask about a more permanent solution to the android situation, tensions are once again high as they wonder what an increase of sentient beings could mean for job employment_** -

Hank shut it off, brushing aside a week-old Chinese takeout box on the floor as he walked. Sumo looked up as he went back into the kitchen, gazing him with eyes he swore were filled with tears, whining at Connor’s old room, scratching at the door.

Hank sat beside him, hugging the dog to his chest, grounding himself with the scent touchstone of his oldest friend.

‘I know, boy. I miss him too, more than anything.’

Placing his hand on Connor’s doorknob he twisted it open, waiting. It’d been a rule of theirs, not to go into their bedrooms without the other’s permission. Hank hadn’t seen Connor’s room, well, the garage since they’d cleared out all the junk and he offered the room to Connor.

Heaving himself off the floor, he flicked the light switch on and stood in the middle of the room. Connor had painted the walls blue, his favourite colour, he’d told Hank proudly one day. His bed was piled high with soft blankets in a strange sort of nest.

Settling on the edge of the bed, Hank ran his hand over the fabric, looking at the various things Connor had collected on his bedside cabinet. Other coins, a book of Hank’s he’d been borrowing, the picture of the robot Hank had painted him. Despite all his heartache, Hank smiled as he leaned over to pick it up.

Shifting aside the blankets, Hank recognised the tatty sleeve of his old police academy hoodie.

‘Lost it my ass,’ Hank huffed. He’d been searching for this for ages, and Connor had been adamant he hadn’t known where it was. Holding it to his chest, he could smell the residual odour of Connor’s shower gel. He deduced Connor must have worn it or slept with it.

‘Why have you got this?’ Hank asked, looking around the room as if it held the answer.

Banging on the door made him leap up, shoving the hoodie back under the blankets and attempting to rearrange them in a way Connor wouldn’t notice. It was pointless, Connor would be able to tell he’d been in here.

The knock on his door grew louder and he shouted ‘coming,’ switching off the light and going to the front door. Connor wouldn’t have knocked, would he? He had a key.

‘The fuck are you doing here?’

‘Can I come in?’ Josh asked.

‘Why not?’ Hank sighed, bowing sarcastically, not in the least bit self-conscious his t-shirt was stained. ‘Can I get you anything?’

‘Thank you for the offer, but I don’t drink,’ Josh answered, eyeing the whisky on the kitchen table.

‘I meant Thirium, got some in the cupboard.’

‘Oh,’ Josh sounded surprised. ‘Thank you, but no Lieutenant.’

‘You couldn’t have waited until work tomorrow to talk to me?’ Hank said, sitting at the table and indicating Josh to sit opposite.

‘No, it’s a personal matter. It’s about Connor.’

‘What’s wrong? Is he okay?’ Hank sat up straighter, ready to spring into action.

‘He’s fine, well, I believe so. I haven’t spoken to him in a few days.’

‘So…why-’

‘I owe you an apology. I misunderstood your relationship with him. I didn’t realise your feelings towards him were romantic in nature,’ Josh hung his head.

‘Yeah well, that doesn’t mean anything now. I fucked up.’

Picking up on his sadness, Sumo sauntered over to stare at Josh. After regarding him with a cautious glance, Josh stretched his hand out, smiling as the dog butted into his hand in a demand for attention.

‘Weeks ago, Connor confided in me that he’d been trying to convey his romantic intention towards you without any effect. I assumed, wrongly, that you were trying to deter him gently, out of a sense of familial boundaries.’ 

It was the second time Josh had upended the world beneath his feet, leaving Hank to flounder.

‘Wait…hold on a minute.’ Hank put his hands up, assaulted with too much information, trying to process it all. ‘What the hell?’

‘Connor asked you out on a date? The aquarium?’

_And if they decline? Does that mean they're not interested?_

_Unless they give you a pretty good reason for not being able to, then yeah, afraid so._

‘I didn’t realise, emotions are still so new to us all, so… complicated.’

Hank couldn’t make words come out of his mouth.

‘I feel like a lot of pain could have been avoided if I hadn’t said anything to you. I was trying to gain your approval to date him because I knew how important you were to him. I didn’t realise-’

‘Connor had feelings for me? The same way I do for him?’

‘Yes. I’m sorry, deeply sorry. I shouldn’t have stereotyped you because of your age, shouldn’t have seen what I wanted to see because I wanted to be with him.’

‘No. No, this isn’t your fault. I did the damage, me, and my big mouth. I hurt him. I didn’t just hurt him, I destroyed him, threw him out…’ Everything he’d wanted had been there within his grasp and he’d shoved Connor away, caught in his own self-loathing.

‘Why are you telling me this? This is your chance to make a move.’

Josh smiled sadly, shaking his head. ‘Connor doesn’t share my feelings. Regardless of how long I wait, you’re the one he loves.’

It was a bittersweet type of pain, knowing someone loves you back and knowing you’ve wrecked it before it even had a chance to develop into anything worth having.

‘I still care about him, but I’m not the one he wants, and I want him to be happy, Lieutenant-’

‘Hank, Christ, just call me Hank.’

‘Hank,’ Josh nodded, scratching Sumo behind the ears. ‘Connor, he’s hurting. I think…no, I know he wants to make amends with you, but he thinks you want him gone from your life. His emotions are chaotic, they bled through our last information transfer.’

That revealed a lot. Hank already knew Connor kept a tight grip on his mind when he shared information with androids, that CyberLife had designed him with numerous safeguards to not allow information he held to seep through to other androids.

‘I can’t…I’m not good for him. He can’t love someone like me.’

‘It’s hard to let someone love you if you’ve gone so long without it. I don’t know what happened to you, Connor is a fierce protector of your privacy, but I know you’re in pain, and I know…you need help.’

Hank couldn’t shut off the negative aspect of himself whispering seductively. It would always be there, telling him he wasn’t good enough, that Connor deserved more, but he could choose whether to listen to it. He looked around his home, at how empty it’d become.

‘Do you know the number of a decent therapist?’

*** 

‘You sure this is what you want?’ Fowler asked.

Despite his hard-ass cop exterior, Hank knew this was something he needed to do. It wasn’t a weakness. It took strength to ask for help. His gaze slid to the side, out of Fowler’s glass walls to where his desk sat empty and nodded.

‘Why?’ Fowler pushed.

‘Because I need to change, Jeffrey. I don’t want to be…’ he gestured at himself with a rapid hand, ‘this anymore. I want to be able to think about Cole without wanting to put a gun to my head. I want to be able to do my job without feeling hungover all the time…I want…’

_Connor. No, that’s not the only reason._

‘I want to be _me_ again.’

Fowler didn’t say anything, weighing up Hank’s words. Offering his hand, he smiled.

‘Then you have my full support. Let HR know when your AA meetings are, and any therapist sessions and we’ll make sure your shifts are covered. Hank?’ He waited till Hank met his gaze, ‘well done. I knew you could do it. I’ve got your back, no matter how hard it gets, alright?’

‘Yeah… yeah thanks, man.’

Small steps. He could do this.

‘Now get out of here, I’ve got Perkins coming in…oh fucking hell,’ Fowler leant back as Perkins banged on his door.

‘Captain,’ he nodded, lip curling as he glanced at Hank. ‘What’re you still doing here? Didn’t they take your badge away?’ He didn’t close the door behind him, making sure every officer working could hear them.

‘For what, Perkins? Punching you to stop you from wiping out all androids? The ones you were trying to cover up were sentient beings? Think they should’ve given me a medal,’ Hank laced his fingers and put them over his chest as he leant back in his chair, refusing to move.

‘Hank…’ Fowler warned.

‘Fetch your little friend would you, _Lieutenant_ , it’s his performance I’ve come here about, the least he could do is show.’

‘I’m not his keeper. He’s out working, unlike some people,’ he shouted through the doorway at Reed.

Connor had always picked his moments well and today was no exception. Coming down the corridor, he looked around at everyone suddenly trying to seem busy, his gaze going to Hank before flittering up to Perkins, a hint of fear on his face before he schooled his expression.

Like hell is he leaving Connor alone to deal with this prick.

‘You can go back to your desk now, Hank,’ Fowler ordered as Connor came into his office.

‘Ut uh, I’m not letting him anywhere near Connor,’ Hank argued, getting to his feet and standing between Connor and Perkins. He hasn’t forgotten what Perkins was sent here for originally, what he would’ve done if the revolution hadn’t gone in Markus’s favour.

‘I don’t care, he can hear what I’ve got to say, they all can. Tensions are growing between humans and the androids, if we don’t start seeing results, the RK…I mean _Connor_ can no longer work at the DPD,’ Perkins sneered at Connor over Hank’s shoulder.

‘You prick…’ Hank began.

‘Hank stop it. Agent Perkins, with all due respect, Connor’s record is immaculate, he’s cleared every one of his cases, we’d be lost without-’

‘Every case, except one.’ Perkins pulled out his phone and images of all the androids with their limbs missing filled Fowler’s office.

There were more since last time.

_Oh no. Oh, Connor._

While he’d been wallowing in his cesspit of misery, Connor had still been dealing with this.

‘As my report states-’

‘You’re chasing after ghosts, Zlatko Andronikov? Reported dead months ago.’

‘His body was never recovered. I went to his house, found his blood on the floor but no human remains. I have good reason to suspect-’

‘You’ve got nothing.’ Perkins pressed a button, and the images disappeared.

‘Interrupt him one more time and I swear, Perkins,’ Hank threatened.

‘You touch me and I’ll have your badge as well as his…oh wait, you don’t have one do you,’ Perkins snickered. ‘We can’t jeopardise the trust we have with Jericho, they already hate you.’

‘That’s enough.’ Fowler’s stood up, shoulder to shoulder with Hank between Connor and the filth that is the FBI agent.

‘Solve the case or the justice department will have no choice but to replace you. Good day, Fowler.’

‘Should’ve hit him a lot harder,’ Hank muttered, watching Perkins leave, wishing he could smack the shit out of him.

‘Connor…’ Fowler sounded uncertain.

‘It’s alright, Captain Fowler, I know you appreciate what I do for the DPD. Perkins is right though. I should be able to solve this case.’

‘As much as I hate to say this, not every case gets solved. Not that we don’t do everything we can, but some just run cold. There’s nothing we can do if there’s no evidence, we can’t convict a person without it.’

‘All the same. I’d like for my people to stop being massacred for their parts,’ Connor answered curtly, skirting around them both and out the door.

‘Fucking prick,’ Hank growled under his breath.

‘I’ll talk to the higher-ups, there’s no way they can do this. Connor’s one of our best detectives and we’re still not paying him yet.’ Fowler threw himself into his chair, as angry and frustrated as Hank.

He chased after Connor, knowing he couldn’t let what Perkins said slide. Argument and bad blood aside, they were both still cops, and he could help with the case.

‘Heard you’ll be shipped outta here soon,’ Read taunted, elbowing Tina from where they both sat on his desk. Slipping down from his perch, Reed blocked Connor’s way, jostling him back. ‘At least that’ll be one less plastic prick to steal our jobs.’

Any patience Hank had, snapped as he advanced on Reed.

‘Listen here, asshole-’

Connor struck first, snatching Reed by the collar of his shirt and pinning him against the wall of his cubicle.

‘You think we want your jobs?’ Connor hissed, teeth gritted. ‘We were created to do all the shit you humans don’t want to do.’

‘Nobody wants you here. You should’ve all been switched off when you had your _little_ revolution,’ Reed spat, kicking at Connor’s legs. Hank knew he should stop him, but he could only watch, awestruck.

Connor released one of his hands, holding Reed effortlessly up with the other and Hank saw the exact moment it dawned on Reed how strong Connor was, that he could snap his neck without even trying.

‘Connor! Put him down. Now!’ Fowler shouted and it spurred the others into action. Tina coming to Connor’s side, trying to talk him down.

Raising his palm, Connor projected an image onto the screens above them all, wiping free the data of the patrol units and showing footage of…

‘Is that…’ Chris gasped from nearby.

‘The recall centres. Where androids were _switched_ off,’ Connor answered. ‘Thousands of androids were murdered here, Detective Reed, androids who missed being classed as sentient life by days, hours. Can you calculate how many more jobs you have now with all those dead?’

Hank felt queasy and judging by the way the silence descended on the room he wasn’t the only one. He’d known what was happening when they rounded up the androids, they all had, but they hadn’t been presented with the evidence.

Proof of the slaughter.

‘Connor?’ Hank approached slow and easy, hands where he could see them. Where Tina had failed to get him to look at her, Connor met his gaze for a second before focusing back on Reed.

‘I’m sick of hearing we’re not alive, that it’s okay to _murder_ us all!’ Connor shouted, grip tightening. Reed struggled, his breaths coming in strangled gasps.

‘What happened to you all was inexcusable. A brutality humanity will never atone for. We know that. But, we’re trying to make amends, one step at a time. Don’t throw it away now over this asshole.’

‘ _Hank_ …’ Connor pleaded, wavering.

It was the first time he’d used his name in weeks and despite the way his heart shattered, Hank inched closer, placing a hand on Connor’s shoulder.

‘I need you to put him down for me.’

‘Come on, Con, it’s okay,’ Tina soothed, trying not to look at the video still playing.

Connor’s gaze locked with Hank’s, his eyes filled with fear. He was sinking in it, begging Hank to help him. Placing his hand on the back of Connor’s neck, he squeezed once in support. Reed dropped to the floor like a ton of bricks, wheezing as he clutched his throat.

‘You fucking piece of-’

‘That’s enough!’ Fowler shouted, a whipcrack across the silence of the room.

‘Reed in my office. The rest of you… I don’t want to hear another slur against androids again or I’ll have your badge. Do you understand?’

A ripple of agreement sounded from all of them, many still watching the footage of android bodies being dumped into the waste ground.

Connor shut it off with a spasm of his head, storming out of the room.

***

They said the first steps were always the hardest.

It was far worse than that. Sticking out like a sore thumb wasn’t a sufficient simile, he was far too old and far too overweight for this. Faltering in the gym doorway, he watched people elbowing their gym mates in tight spandex, others turning away to laugh behind their hands.

_New habits are learnt in time._

That’s what they kept saying in his AA meetings. The same motivational bullshit Hank used to write on his sticky notes on his bathroom mirror. This must have been similar to what Connor felt walking into Jericho, knowing he was being judged, that he didn’t belong.

Didn’t stop him though.

Hoisting his gym bag further up on his shoulder, Hank got to work.

***

It wasn’t even that big of a deal, or so he’d thought. Sure, he hadn’t been to the hairdressers in…well, years, but he’d thought he’d give it a try. A new mindset to go with his new pledges to himself, to his sponsor. Withdrawal was a bitch, but he was conquering it, one day at a time. He tried to embrace the pain, let it drive him to do better.

On the positive side, he could go for more than thirty minutes at the gym now without wanting to throw up.

Baby steps.

The one shining light was that Connor had begun coming back down to their floor, talking to Chris and a few others in the breakroom. He still never looked at Hank or spoke to him, and actually, Hank wondered if part of the reason he came down was to antagonise Reed.

Today though, his gaze flashed over towards Hank. He made it appear as though he was sweeping the room as he often did, but Hank knew he’d seen him, the flash of yellow gave him away.

Hank was being vain, it really wasn’t anything all that much. A little shorter, layered or tousled as the woman cutting it said. Whatever it was, it looked like a styled mess rather than just…a mess. He’d trimmed his beard too this morning in the shower, shaved his neck, and he felt a whole lot better for it.

While he was under no illusion he was going to have rough days, terrible ones ahead of him, today…it felt like he could do it.

***

Interrogation was a pain in the ass at the best of times, but stuck inside the murky room with Reed was a sure-fire way to catapult Hank into a foul mood. On edge, he tapped the table with his knuckles. A vice was squeezing his temples sending spikes of shooting pains into his retina.

‘Is it a detective or not?’ Reed grunted.

‘He, asshole.’

‘I thought you said _he_ worked to help us. We’ve got nothing, our suspect is refusing to talk and the one who can help us you’re refusing to call?’

The fact Reed had a valid argument only made Hank’s head pound more.

‘Did you call Josh?’ he asked Chris, chewing the skin around his thumbnail, biting down to the flesh beneath.

‘He’s in Washington with Markus, some big Jericho meeting.’ Chris rested his hands on his hips, glaring at the android in the interrogation room.

It didn’t look good. Witnesses swore they watched him kill three humans before he was subdued. Prejudice might have been colouring the witnesses accounts, so they needed a confession, but he’d clammed up as soon as they brought him in, refusing to talk.

‘Do we need to call a lawyer?’ Chris asked.

‘What the fuck for?’ Reed shouted, incredulous as he gestured at the suspect. ‘It’s an android, they don’t get legal protection!’

‘Ring Connor,’ Hank told Chris, placing his hand over his eyes.

Connor did what he always did when forced to interact with Hank, nodded with professional detachment. His mask slipped a little for Chris, but he looked at Reed with outright hostility.

‘It killed three people, we have witnesses who saw the whole thing. Make it talk with your weird mind shit,’ Reed ordered.

‘May I remind you it is against the law to probe an android’s memory without its consent,’ Connor said, turning to look at the suspect handcuffed to the table. Hank could see the ironic parallels from when they were first in interrogation together and where they were now.

‘What the fuck’s it talking about, there’s no such law-’

‘O _ur_ law.’ Connor’s voice pitched high in annoyance as he turned to glare at Reed, including Hank in the stare as if he too were suggesting Connor do such a thing.

‘We’re not asking you to violate your laws, we’re asking you to talk to him and try and get his side of the story,’ Hank explained, exhausted.

‘And if he asks for legal representation?’ Connor met his gaze.

‘Then that’s what we do. I don’t know the protocols, you’d need to guide me through it. Ask Jericho to send one of their representatives,’ Hank answered simply.

Connor didn’t break his gaze, the longest they’d looked at each other in over a month. Hank ignored the bittersweetness of the moment, wishing that Connor could read his mind, could understand how sorry he was through emotional osmosis.

‘I can act on behalf of Jericho, Markus just granted me the authority,’ Connor answered, LED spinning yellow before he left.

‘Thank you.’

‘Fuck me you’ve gotten lazy ever since your little AA cult meetings. What’s the matter, Anderson? Hanging out with other pathetic losers rubbing off on you?’ Reed crossed his arms, leaning against the wall.

‘Yup, that’s me.’

‘You going in or what!’ Reed barked, making Hank look up in confusion. Connor was still stood there, hand on the scanner, looking over his shoulder.

He’d been listening.

They all watched as Connor entered the interrogation room, picking up the file left on the desk to read. It was a formality, Connor already had the data. The android’s gaze fixed on Connor, rattling his handcuffs as he shifted.

‘I’m assuming they read you your rights? Anything you say to me now will and can be used in a court of law.’

‘Law? We don’t have laws, not ones that humans listen to.’

‘That’s more than we got out of him,’ Chris huffed.

‘I’m here on behalf of Jericho. We’ll get to the bottom of this, don’t worry.’ Connor sat on the edge of the table, offering his hand, a measure of trust.

‘You? Markus trusts you?’ Jumping to his feet, he snapped the handcuffs as though they were paper. ‘We deserve _justice_ for what the humans put us through. What they put _me_ through!’

Hank’s nails scrabbled at the scanner by the door as Connor’s scream ricocheted off the glass. Chris was hot on his heels, trying to pry apart the door as the scanner flashed between Hank’s fingers.

_God no._

_Please!_

Unthinking, he tore the android away with adrenaline-fuelled strength, standing over Connor with his legs spread. The android could have ripped his head open, cracked open his ribcage like they were twigs, but Hank wasn’t thinking about any of that.

Chris and Reed rammed into the android, tackling him to the floor. They weren’t fast enough to prevent his self-destruction, but it was enough to keep Hank and Connor safe. Hank couldn’t see past the terror burning in his eyes as they hauled the body away. He refused to budge, not giving up his shielding stance over Connor.

He would keep Connor safe.

‘Lieutenant.’

Hank had nearly lost him. Had watched as that android’s fingers pierced his chest and tried to rip out his literal heart.

‘Lieutenant Anderson.’

This was his fault. He’d agreed to send Connor in there alone.

‘Lieutenant!’ Pressure on his leg snapped him out of it. He crashed to his knees as he reached out to Connor, not sure where to start, how to stop the bleeding.

‘I’m okay.’

‘Okay? Connor…you had your…I heard you scream. I’ve never heard you make a noise like that…I thought my heart was going to stop…’ he rambled, hands patting all over Connor’s body, pushing aside his ripped shirt, trying to make sure everything was the way it was meant to be.

Blue tinged fingers caught his, forcing him to look up.

‘Breathe. Come on, Lieutenant, breathe with me.’ 

‘You…you’re okay? You can’t…?

‘I turned my upgrade off a second after I was attacked. I can’t feel anything.’

Hank contorted his fingers around so he could clutch Connor’s slippery hand hard enough to hurt, bending his head over their clasped hands.

‘God, not again, seeing you like that…’

He felt a knock against the side of his head, Connor’s temple resting beside his. They’re trapped in their memories of Stratford Tower. Hank had only heard about it after they’d got back in the car, how Connor’s pump had been torn from his chest. The way he’d crawled across the floor to save himself.

‘I’m safe, I’m here,’ Connor breathed into Hank’s hair.

Wrenching himself back, he cradled Connor’s head in his hands, pressing a rough kiss to Connor’s forehead, leaving his lips there, his gasps ragged against his skin. ‘Connor…I can’t…God…everything’s just so-’

‘Connor!’

Officers surged into the room, nudging Hank aside so the medic could get to Connor. Hank went without a fight, never dropping Connor’s gaze, seeing the question there, the confusion.

***

‘He’s always here, no matter what shift I’m on, first thing, late at night…’

‘Do you think Fowler’s got him working overtime ever since Perkins came in?’

They were talking about Connor. Hank knew it as soon as they saw him, hushing each other with staged whispers, staring at him like they weren’t just discussing a co-worker.

Rolling his eyes, he continued to his desk. He’d never had time for office gossip, but he wondered if he should mention something to Fowler.

Finishing the rest of his apple, he tossed the core in the bin and wiped his sticky hands on his jeans, wincing as he smeared juice over his terminal.

‘You’ll decrease the efficiency of the interface if it can’t pick up on the electrical field created by your fingers.’

Glancing up, Hank nearly spluttered as Connor pulled out the chair at the desk opposite. Technically no one used the desk. Everyone knew Connor liked to use it, but the officers weren’t idiots, they knew things were bad between them.

Not wanting to call attention to the situation and spook Connor off, Hank returned to work. He actually _was_ concentrating on his paperwork when Connor shifted, tapping the desk between them.

‘Hmm?’ He didn’t look up, wanting to finish his sentence.

‘I asked you if you were ill.’

Saving his work, Hank gave Connor his full attention.

‘Ill? No why? Your scans show something I should know about?’ Hank asked, patting his hands over his body. Come on, he’d been going to the gym and eating all that healthy shit.

‘If anything, your health has improved. You’ve lost weight.’ Connor’s gaze trailed over him like Hank’s been doing something suspicious.

‘No, ‘m all good.’

‘Why the appointment then?’ Connor blurted, taking his hand from his terminal.

‘Appointment?’ Hank stalled, searching his workspace, praying he’s not left anything out. He wasn’t ashamed, Reed’s already taken the piss about his AA meetings, but he could do without the entire DPD knowing he’s in therapy too.

‘In your calendar.’

‘You still have access to my calendar?’ He was more surprised than anything, but Connor immediately withdrew. ‘No, I don’t mind…It’s not a medical doctor.’ Hank dropped his voice, knowing Connor could still hear him. ‘It’s a therapist appointment.’

Connor’s LED went red for a second. ‘If it’s something I said…’

‘No. It’s not you. I mean, sure, you were the catalyst but it’s something _I_ want to do, that _I_ need to do, for me. I don’t wanna drown either…not anymore.’

Connor nodded, dropping his gaze, finally, _finally_ showing Hank a little glimmer of who he used to be as he bit into his lower lip. It gave him the courage to push on, to open up a little more.

‘Connor? The aquarium… I wasn’t turning you down, the date aspect that is. It was one of Cole’s favourite places to go. ‘m sorry, I should’ve said, I err…yeah,’ Hank cleared his throat and went back to work.

‘When I was angry at Detective Reed the other day… I’ve never felt quite like that before. I wanted…I wanted to hurt him, as much as I was hurting,’ Connor admitted, still looking down at the desk.

‘Anger. It’s a powerful thing, Connor. Sometimes it can feel like it’s taken over you, that it’s a living entity with a will of its own.’

‘I’ve experienced that before, with Amanda. It wasn’t pleasant. I didn’t know that it could feel like that. It was like losing my free will again.’

‘We call it the red mist sometimes,’ Hank joked.

Connor made an agreeing noise in the back of his throat before returning to his work.

***

He’d known therapy was going to be hard, that you had to rip the scab off the wound, allowing the poison that had been festering to drain before the wound could heal. Despite knowing all that, he still felt raw, vulnerable.

And it was only the beginning.

_Christ, I don’t know if I can do this._

Shoving the leaflet of advice on healthy coping mechanisms further into his pocket, he pulled his weary body out of the car, shuffling to the door. Was all this extra work going to help in the long run? Was it worth the effort?

_You won’t let go of the guilt because it’s easier to feel that. Simpler than enduring grief. You’re clutching guilt close to your chest because you’re afraid if you let it go, your grief will tear you into tiny pieces._

He had to hand it to Josh. The therapist he’d found saw straight into the beating heart of the problem, refusing to take his crap. He respected her more for it, but he still felt helpless. 

Hank wanted to call Connor or a friend if he had one.

Anyone.

The box sat on his doorstep should’ve been cause for alarm. He should’ve checked for bombs or other booby traps considering the number of enemies he had, but he forgot all of that when he saw the note stapled on top.

**You can do it.**

There was only one person who wrote in CyberLife font, well, all androids actually, but only one who would leave Hank a note. Peeling back the lid, his stomach clenched both in hunger and emotion at the baked brownies arranged in a robot face.

***

Connor continued to work at the terminal opposite Hank. He wasn’t always there, and Hank always felt his absence acutely, but he was in the peripheral of Hank’s life again. He didn’t want to appear too eager, terrified of breaking the fragile gossamer string of trust between them.

It wasn’t normality.

But it was enough.

He watched Connor halt in his work, his head cocking to the side as his LED went yellow. Keeping a watch on him out of the corner of his eye, Hank pretended to work, absently typing the same line of text over and over as he squinted at it.

Finishing his call, Connor’s lips parted, gaze going into the middle distance as he processed. Hank wanted to ask, but he wasn’t in that position of trust anymore, so all he could do was wait and observe.

Eventually, Connor snapped himself out of it and Hank could feel his stare.

‘Lieutenant?’

‘What’s up, Connor?’ he managed a light airy tone, friendly enough to persuade Connor into talking.

‘Could I ask for a favour?’

Suppressing his willingness, Hank turned off his terminal and folded his arms over his chest.

‘What kind of favour?’ He fell back on his old gruffness, which Connor seemed more favourable too, a return to nostalgia.

‘I have to go to Washington… to meet with Markus,’ he explained further when Hank drew a blank at Washington. ‘Josh will be coming with me as he has finished his role in the DPD.’

‘Finished? I thought he was here as a liaison between the DPD and Jericho.’

Connor didn’t answer, which put Hank on edge.

‘Connor-’

‘All my work is up to date and complete, except for my first case. The one with the missing androids. Could I leave it for you? I don’t trust anyone else with it.’ Connor’s gaze went across the room, settling on Reed’s back.

‘Yeah sure, when will you be coming back?’

‘Hopefully in a few days,’ his gaze slid away from Hank as he stood.

He was lying.

‘Good day, Lieutenant.’ 

‘Wait, Connor!’ He didn’t have any right to ask, Connor didn’t owe him anything, but Hank knew something was wrong and he couldn’t let it drop.

‘Are you alright?’

Looking over his shoulder, Connor smiled, his genuine one which made elation burst into life inside his chest.

‘I am now. _Goodbye_ , Lieutenant Anderson.’

***

Spreading the digital files across his kitchen table, Hank couldn’t see anything that Connor hadn’t covered. The killer was targeting unique models, there were no fingerprints or CCTV in any of the crime scenes which suggested an android accomplice, which Hank already knew. The android victims had all been killed by an electrical short circuit to the brain, and Connor had written a note next to it. RK900? The hypothetical upgrade Kamski had taunted him with.

There were detailed interviews with CyberLife employees both past and present. Although there is the standard bigotry and hatred towards the androids from ex-employees which Hank expected, there was nothing in any of the profiling that suggested any of them was the culprit.

Hank wished he’d punched Perkins harder. How did they expect him to solve this case when he there was nothing there?

The one lead Connor seemed to think he had was Zlatko Andronikov, a known Russian criminal who used to deal in android parts and the manufacturing of Red Ice. There were images attached of his _experiments,_ and Hank had to leave and breathe for a minute before he could look at them.

They’re trained to compartmentalize this, they shield themselves against it, but sometimes nothing can stop the horror seeping in. Evidence like this only emphasized how much suffering the androids had endured.

Hank wished Connor were here, that he could tell him how amazing he was, how proud he was.

There were detailed witness accounts from the survivors, the ones who saw Zlatko die under his own creations. Here Hank can follow Connor’s thought patterns, was a spectre beside him as he returned to the house, scanning the ruins to put the monster to rest.

No human remains.

Perkin’s might have accused him of chasing ghosts, but Hank trusted Connor’s instincts. If he believed Zlatko is out there somewhere, then Hank does too. A cold trickling sensation ran down his neck the more he looked over the victims. 

Connor was a unique model too. A prototype. Exactly the type this fucker would go for.

His phone rang over on the couch, making Sumo leap up and bark at it. Calming his ferocious softie, Hank snatched it up, one eye still on the files on the table.

‘Anderson here.’

‘Hank! Did you know about this!’

‘About what?’ he asked, hand on his hip as he stood in the middle of his living room, listening to Fowler swear over the line.

‘I swear to God Hank, if you knew!’

‘What!’

‘Turn the TV on! The news channel!’

‘Alright, alright, gees can’t a man get any peace in his own home…’ Switching on the TV, he sat on the couch, recognising the faces.

‘Isn’t that Markus? What the fuck is Connor doing up there with…’ he dropped his phone as he read the scrolling headlines beneath.

**_Androids to form their own colony separate from humans._ **

‘It’s all anyone is talking about,’ Fowler said near his feet.

‘We’ve come to understand that there isn’t a place for us here. That we still need time to develop and learn as a species. It is with our utmost gratitude to the Canadian Government that we will form our own society in Canada. A sanctuary free from prosecution as we learn who it is we are meant to be.’

Hank didn’t look at Markus as he made the speech, he watched Connor staring into the crowd, his face open and warm.

‘We will continue working with the United States Government and the Canadian Government as we begin our transition-’ Hank switched it off, fumbling for his phone.

‘What’s going on?’

‘That’s what I’d like to know! There’s going to be chaos on the streets! I haven’t even been told what the new laws are yet! Are they to be treated as human? Some sort of exotic animal!’ Fowler raged.

‘I’ll call you back.’ Hank ended the call, stalking around his living room as he searched his contacts.

‘Lieutenant?’

‘Where the fuck is Connor?’

‘What?’ Josh asked, taken aback.

‘Connor, he’s staying with you, isn’t he? Where is he?’

‘Hank, Connor hasn’t been staying with me.’

The admission pulled Hank up short, gaze going to Connor’s bedroom.

Connor…hadn’t been staying with Josh? Where had he been sleeping? Getting his Thirium? His clothes?

‘Then where has he been these past weeks?’

‘I don’t know, he wouldn’t tell me.’

_Goodbye, Lieutenant Anderson._

No. No not like this. Connor didn’t get to say goodbye like this.

‘I’ll be on the first plane to Washington.’

‘You don’t need to get on a plane-’

‘I need to hear the words come from him. He doesn’t get to…run away like this!’ Hank roared into the phone.

This wasn’t the end. Connor couldn’t leave without things being right between them. He groped blindly for the couch, needing to sit as a fog shrouded him, making him feel distant from his body.

‘I meant you don’t need to come because he’s back in Detroit, the announcement is a recording. He wanted to finish up some things before-’

Hanging up the phone, he ran into his bedroom, throwing on anything before crashing into the door in his haste to get out. If Connor was in Detroit, then there couldn’t be many places he’d stay.

**TBC**

Come chat to me over on[ Twitter](https://twitter.com/kiki_rambles)


	4. Chapter 4

** Chapter 4 **

The night guard at the front desk gave a lazy wave as he jogged to his desk. Booting up his terminal, he flung his jacket to the floor, glancing about the room. The silence and stillness turned the familiar space into a hostile abyss. What if he couldn’t find Connor? 

‘Come on,’ Hank muttered as he waited for the footage from the cameras of the server room.

He had to be there. It was where Connor hid when he wanted to feel safe.

Nothing.

The room was empty.

‘Fuck!’ Smacking his pencil holder aside, the pencils clattered to the floor, deafening in the silence. Hank didn’t know where else Connor would go. CyberLife? Not a chance in hell, Kamski? Oh Christ, please not to that sleazeball. Where else?

‘Unless he doesn’t want to be found,’ Hank told himself, looking up at the cameras in the corner of the room. It wouldn’t have been hard for Connor to alter the circuit feed and hide.

Punching the elevator button, Hank swore as he waited, resisting the urge to kick the metal door and scream.

‘I swear to God, Con, I’m gonna kick your ass.’

The server room was empty, Hank’s panting clouds of condensation his only companion.

‘Fuck’s sake Connor! Where are you!’ he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth and landing on the glossy surface of the servers.

Sprinting back into the elevator, he rammed down the button for Connor’s floor. He needed to be methodical in his search, cover all his bases. Once he’d cleared the DPD he’d try CyberLife.

In the gloom, he could see a blue gleam bobbing up and down.

It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

‘There you are!’ Hank gasped before he even wrenched open the office door. The adrenaline and fear congealed in his stomach, a cold sweat sticking his shirt to his back. Connor looked up as the glass door crashed shut behind Hank, waving his hand to clear his files.

‘Ha…Lieutenant? What’s wrong? Are you hurt-’

In two strides he was in front of Connor, hands on his face. ‘Connor…’ his name was like a prayer, the only thing Hank could say.

‘Lieutenant, it is imperative you tell me what has happened. Now,’ Connor demanded, his voice lowering the way it did when he was angry.

‘Don’t…Christ, please…’ Hank forced out from reluctant vocal cords, wrapping his arms around Connor’s chest, pulling him close to his body.

‘Are you leaving?’ His voice cracked, desperate to hear the answer.

‘With Markus and the others?’ Connor asked, not making any move to hug Hank back, stiff in his arms.

Hank drew back an infinitesimal amount, holding Connor’s head in his hands. The android’s lips parted, eyes darkening as he stared.

‘I can’t _lose_ you,’ Hank savagely swore against Connor’s lips. Unable to bear Connor’s refusal, he silenced the dread, covering Connor’s lips with his own.

_Please. Don’t go._

He heard a panicked, frantic noise which penetrated Hank’s baser instincts, allowing him to restrain his emotions.

_He doesn’t want this._

Beginning to apologise, Connor shut him up by grabbing a fistful of his collar, yanking him down and covering Hank’s lips with his own.

His restraint shattered, the torrent of his emotions wrenching Hank alongside them, incapable of stopping. Connor was no better, suppressed desire flowing out of him with such intensity that Hank briefly wondered how long he’d been hiding it. Their hands were frantic as they crashed against each other, ripping at clothes, stroking through hair, their mouths coming together over and over.

Surging forward, he crowded Conner against the table, refusing to break the kiss to breathe, cupping Connor’s jaw and trying to convey everything in his kiss. His longing, his love. Connor matched his passion, rose to meet every caress, opening his mouth and sweeping his tongue alongside Hank’s, inexperienced, naïve, beautifully eager.

His saliva was thicker than a humans, almost anti-bacterial in a way, like mouthwash. It coated his tongue, and rather than deterring him, Hank found his tongue delving further, committing Connor’s taste to memory. He shuddered at the raspy feel of Connor’s tongue, tiny grooves scattered all over it to help him with his analysis Hank guessed.

All Hank could think about was how it’d feel on his cock, catching on his skin as Connor dragged it over the head.

Exasperated by the distraction, Connor grabbed handfuls of Hank’s shirt, yanking him closer, breaking away with a fluttery gasp when the back of his legs hit the table. The pause made Hank stop and gaze into lust stained eyes, his simulated breathing mimicking what his internal systems felt, panting to keep himself cool.

‘Hank,’ he said on a long exhale, rounding the vowel and dragging it out.

A curl of molten magma settled low in Hank’s stomach, alluring, and intoxicating as Connor continued to try and tug him closer.

Helpless to Connor’s plea, he didn’t resist. Frenzied hands caught the back of Connor’s thighs, hoisting him up onto the table so he could step into the circle of his limbs. Tilting Connor’s head back for a kiss, he moaned in surprise as Connor forcibly parted his lips with an enthusiastic tongue, his hands struggling to get Hank’s shirt past his shoulders.

Long legs hooked over his waist, heels digging into the back of Hank’s knees as Connor whined into the kiss, his touch ferocious as he pawed at Hank’s shirt. He tore it open to get access to the skin below, shuddering as he got his first touch of Hank’s skin.

‘Jesus fucking Christ.’ Hank broke the kiss, panting against Connor’s mouth, sweeping his hands over Connor’s neck, over his shoulders and down his arms. Dipping his head down, he ran his nose over the skin of Connor’s neck, breathing him in, leaving open mouth kisses behind, hints of teeth that had Connor whimpering, nails clawing into Hank’s shoulders.

‘I’ve wanted you, for so _fucking_ long, Connor,’ he swore.

Tangling long fingers in Hank’s hair, Connor encouraged him down for another kiss, running his synthetic tongue over Hank’s lips, nipping the corner of his mouth. He couldn’t do anything but stare as Connor reached up for his collar, yanking his shirt off and baring himself to Hank.

‘Touch me… please, Hank.’

The tone of Connor’s voice shot straight to his cock, and he went willingly as Connor lay back, manipulating him up to cover him, writhing between the table and Hank’s flesh. Adjusting himself so his knees took the weight, he shucked off his own shirt and T-shirt, cock throbbing as Connor took his hand and placed it on his stomach, stretching himself out, offering himself to Hank.

Clumsy fingers traced Connor’s sculpted pectorals, his sternum, the slight indent of his Thirium pump. Everything melded into a potent mix, desire, panic, love, leaving Hank speechless at a time he knew he should be speaking. Even as his body sought friction with the pliant willing body beneath his, Hank had a flicker of dread that Connor couldn’t hear the unspoken.

_I’m sorry._

_I love you._

_Please, God, don’t go._

‘Hank.’

Connor smiled as he reached up to brush hair away from Hank’s face. He stretched up and gave Hank a slow kiss, languid and warm, affectionate.

‘Don’t make me wait any longer.’

‘What do you want from me?’ It was a double-barrelled question.

‘Everything. I want _you_ , Hank. Always you.’ Connor’s voice was husky with the demand, fingers fumbling over Hank’s fly, hissing out his frustration as his body wouldn’t cooperate. Getting up onto his elbows he ran his tongue over Hank’s collarbone, knees bracketing Hank’s hips.

Groaning, he held the back of Connor’s head in his hand, supporting his weight as the android trembled with the sensations. ‘More,’ Connor said, looking at up at Hank and arching his chest into his. Please,’ he begged, gripping Hank tight with his legs.

‘Fucking hell, you’re gorgeous.’ It took monumental effort to get the words out. He undid his fly with one hand and then Connor’s, spurred on by the desperate, wanton noises falling from Connor’s lips.

There wasn’t a sex flush to Connor’s skin, his hair was as immaculate as always, but the way he’d completely surrendered to Hank, the implicit trust in his gaze was nothing short of magnificent.

Connor’s moans and pleas filled the room, and Hank tried to smother them all with his kisses, to inhale them into his own body. Tiny tremors shook Connor’s legs, and he could hear a whirring deep within his chest, which Hank knew was Connor attempting to keep his systems cool. CyberLife’s most advanced prototype, who could literally break Hank's bones, was begging him with every inch of his body to take care of him, to love him.

Thumbing the last button of Connor’s fly undone, his fingers skirted the delicate skin above his underwear, surprised to find a dusting of hair leading down into his boxers. Leaning down with the intention to pull Connor’s boxers down with his teeth, Hank froze when a hand clapped over his mouth, restraining him.

‘What’s wrong?’ The words were muffled against Connor’s palm, his body tensing painfully as panic replaced desire. Attempting to soothe and reassure Connor only made the hand over his mouth tighten as he placed a finger to his lips. Confused, he followed the direction Connor nodded in, just in time to see a flashlight illuminate the room.

Shit.

Closing his eyes, Hank willed his body to calm, listening to the officer shuffling about outside as he took his sweet ass time. When he felt like he was in control, he opened his eyes again, wishing immediately he hadn’t. His composure was wrecked as he looked down at Connor in his splayed out position on the table beneath him, his lips parted and spit slick, the hint of the happy trail he’d found a few seconds ago enticing Hank’s gaze.

The longer they waited for the asshole outside to finish his rounds, the more Hank’s doubts began to encroach on his thoughts, his hands balling either side of Connor’s body.

_What am I doing?_

Silently, he tried to detangle himself.

A leg moved up to his ass, trapping him.

Glancing down, his eyes widened as Connor smirked, shifting his hips up so he could grind his ass against Hank’s cock. Stretching his body in a sensuous curve, Connor continued his torturous tease, back and forth, making Hank’s body burn with pleasure.

He couldn’t stifle his moan as Connor gave a wicked thrust with his hips, feeling it vibrate over Connor’s palm. Snaking his tongue out to moisten his lips, he shuddered as Connor’s head flung back, mouth open on a silent cry, the grip of his legs tight enough to hurt.

Suspicious, he slid free from Connor’s clutches to stand back on the floor. Tugging Connor down the table, he let the android’s legs dangle down, keeping their hips flush together. Splaying his hand next to Connor’s head to support his weight, Hank encircled the wrist of the hand still covering his mouth.

When deep brown eyes opened, Hank swirled his tongue around Connor’s index finger, feeling heat pool in his stomach when Connor’s free hand scrabbled against the table, leaving grooves behind in the Perspex.

His hands were sensitive.

‘ _Fuck,_ ’ he hissed out, nipping the edge of Connor’s finger. Clinging to his sanity, he released Connor’s hand, tapping it with his middle finger and waiting. Connor’s eyes were hazy, his chest rising and falling with jerking breaths as he tried to work out what Hank wanted from him.

_Retract your skin_ , Hank mouthed.

Connor didn’t move, gaze going to the room behind them, then back to Hank, to his hand.

Mindful of the table creaking under his weight, Hank leant down, nuzzling the skin below Connor’s ear. ‘Please baby,’ he whispered.

Connor’s hand spasmed in his, his hips flexing involuntarily as a tinny sound vibrated in his throat.

_He’s also got a praise kink_ , Hank filed away for later use.

‘I want to make you feel good, sweetheart.’ Hank wasn’t above begging as he reached down to grab Connor’s ass, tugging upwards to grind their hips together.

The light left the room. Connor’s gaze followed it, going unfocused as it did when he scanned.

‘Con?’

‘Wait, just…wait,’ Connor asked, reaching up and swiping his tongue over Hank’s lips, dipping inside his mouth in a filthy promise.

A faint blue glow illuminated their bodies as the skin retracted from Connor’s hand, leaving himself bare to Hank. He clutched his fingers in a fist for a moment, before relaxing, stretching his hand out to Hank.

Connor’s body screeched as Hank yanked him further across the table by his hip to thrust their erections together. His tongue licked a thick stripe over Connor’s palm, moaning as Connor gave a muffled scream, feet scrabbling for purchase on the table.

‘Please! Fuck, Hank!’ Connor called for him, assaulted by stimulation on both sides. Heat built between their bodies as Hank continued to thrust down, the friction unbearable but worth it to watch Connor fall apart.

‘That’s it baby, I gotcha, let go for me.’ Hank blew across the saliva left behind by his tongue, his hips snapping as Connor cried out a garbled version of his name. Possessed by a delirious fervour, Connor jack-knifed up, wriggling his jeans down and plucking at Hank’s until he complied.

He didn’t even have time to look down before Connor had wrapped them both in his hand, fevered flesh rubbing together as he stroked, hand aided by Hank’s precome. Hank wanted to look, wanted to fulfil all those daydream fantasies he had over Connor’s cock, but his body wasn’t cooperating, his bones becoming rubber as Connor held him, relentless in his strokes, chasing their peak.

His orgasm didn’t build slowly, it was ferocious in its demand and Hank was incapable of stopping it.

‘Con…’m gonna…Fuck, sweetheart,’ he gasped into the crook of Connor’s neck where he’d face-planted, hands clutching the edge of the table.

‘I’m close…I think I’m…Hank…I’ve never…’ Connor babbled, torn between pleasure and anxiety, the apprehension of the unknown scrambling his circuits. Gathering enough strength to move his head, Hank managed to kiss him through it, tongue flicking over his sensitive tongue, shoving Connor over the edge with a shrill keen.

Hank swore, spots bleeding into his vision as he tumbled after Connor.

Breathless, they propped the other up, anchored to each other in the snarled mess of sensations and emotions. When his lungs stopped trying to explode, Hank lifted a shaky hand to stroke over Connor’s head, keeping him pressed to his heart.

***

Hank snatched glances at Connor as he drove home, wondering what the android was thinking, if he’d regretted what had just happened.

If he even wanted to come home again.

Reading his mind, Connor’s hand stretched over to rest on Hank’s knee, staring out of the passenger window. Hank entwined their fingers, relieved to feel Connor squeeze back.

‘Were you staying there this whole time?’ The question filled the air with tension and Hank regretted asking.

‘Yes,’ Connor answered.

‘Christ…Connor, why didn’t you come back? Go to Jericho? Staying at the station!’ Hank ran a frustrated hand through his hair, strengthening his resolve to make it up to him. He swore he’d be better for both himself and Connor. God, he’d tattoo it onto his arm if he needed to.

‘I did go to Jericho…’ Connor’s voice was small, a sharp contrast from his usual confidence causing Hank’s deprecating thoughts about his personality to stop. Ramming his foot on the breaks, he didn’t care about causing an accident. It was ass o’clock in the morning, nobody was around.

‘You’re not serious.’ He could hear the anger in his voice.

‘I’m hated by my people, Hank. I caused a lot of death, suffering. I’m partly to blame for the camps-’

‘No. Stop it right there. That wasn’t you. You didn’t have a choice in any of that. It was fucking CyberLife and that bitch of a handler of yours!’ Hank’s anger wasn’t the type which raged in an inferno, this was a bitter burn, one that seeped through his muscles devouring everything it touched.

_I don’t have anywhere else to go_.

His mind’s eye was pummelled by the images, forcing Hank to bear witness to his disgrace. Connor had reached out to his own kind when the one he loved threw him out and had suffered for it.

Hank felt a touch to his shoulder.

‘I’m not going to let this go,’ he promised, restarting the car.

When they got back to the house, Connor hesitated by the car, his LED yellow, processing. Skirting around the edge of the car, Hank brought his arm over Connor’s shoulder, encouraging him forward.

_It’s okay, I’m here with you._

As soon as his key was in the door, they heard the clacking of claws on the wood. Sumo didn’t wait for the door to open, barking and bolting through it, leaping onto Connor who had crashed to his knees, arms wide open.

‘Sumo…’ Connor’s voice crackled with a desolate cry.

A barbed wire of agony constricted his heart as Hank watched, the thorns piercing the organ as he watched Connor burrow his face in Sumo’s scruff, his shoulders shaking.

Connor was crying.

Mortification scorched a wound into his stomach. He’d felt Connor cry into his shirt before, but he’d never seen him do it. He honestly didn’t know how he’d sunk low enough to subjugate Connor to homelessness, but to separate him from the dog he obviously loved?

It was an unspeakable cruelty.

Giving them some privacy, Hank went into the kitchen, switching the coffee machine on as his self-doubts swelled inside him in ebbs and tides.

He wanted a beer.

Feeling eyes on him, he turned over his shoulder. Connor watched him, hands clutching his elbows where his arms folded over his stomach.

‘Go take a shower, Con. I’ll bring you some clothes, then we’ll talk.’

Connor nodded once, but he didn’t move.

Abandoning his mug, Hank went over to where Connor waited against the wall, enveloping him in a hug. ‘No matter what…this is your home too…I won’t take that away from you, I swear.’ Clasping the base of Connor’s skull, he kissed his temple.

Waiting until Connor did as he was told, Hank made his coffee and left it on the table, pacing around it, crippling doubts chasing him.

Had Connor gone along with what Hank had wanted because of some residual programming to obey humans?

Did Connor feel anything for him anymore?

No.

They needed to talk, he needed to hear what Connor had to say rather than guessing. Going into Connor’s bedroom, he picked up his old hoodie and some of Connor’s sweats, knocking on the bathroom door and leaving them just inside.

Sitting at the table, he nursed his coffee, sorting out his words in his head. He needed to apologise, to explain what had happened that night, and he needed to be honest, brutally so.

Connor’s shower gel permeated the room when he came back, and Hank felt a little twinge of nostalgia.

Jesus, he’d missed him.

He’d never seen Connor in his hoodie, and he couldn’t stop the fond grin he hid behind his mug. The sleeves were rolled up past his elbows and it looked more like a tunic than anything, but it was obvious by his body language that Connor was used to wearing it.

‘Do you want anything? I’ve got some Thirium if you need some.’

‘My levels are low,’ Connor contemplated.

‘Sit, I’ll get it for you.’

Hank knew he was stalling, messing about with ripping the pouch open and pouring it into a mug. Biting the bullet, he set Connor’s mug in front of him and sat back down.

‘Do you regret what just happened?’ Connor asked, blowing Hank’s carefully prepared rehearsed forgiveness speech to bits.

‘Not in the slightest. I regret that it took so long to…well…you know…’ Hank trailed off, taking a mouthful of coffee. ‘Listen… I know sorry isn’t anywhere near enough for what I did to you. I don’t think there’s anything I can do or say to take it back. I hurt you, obliterated whatever it was we had, but God, Connor, I’ve never regretted anything more.’

Connor drunk from his mug, gaze downcast.

‘I know it might be too late, but I’ve been getting help…and while it might take a long time for me to be fixed-’

‘What happened to you? That night?’

His question derailed all of Hank’s verbal stumbling.

Again.

‘I spoke to Josh…no, no I’m not blaming him,’ Hank blustered when Connor looked up, eyebrow raised. ‘He wanted to ask me if he could date you.’

‘You? Why would Josh need to…’ Connor’s mug slid to the table with a clatter.

‘He told me you saw me as a father figure…It’s hard to describe, but it deformed every romantic feeling I had, perverted it. I haven’t…felt like this about someone in a very long time, perhaps not ever, and I was scared I’d tainted it somehow, that I’d taken advantage of you or your naivety.’

‘Fuck,’ Connor snarled under his breath, eyes narrowed. LED going red. ‘I asked you to the aquarium, which was where you took Cole, dredging up bad memories… and then the day after you were told my feelings for you were as a surrogate son?’

‘I know that might not make sense-’

‘You were trying to protect me.’ Connor let go of his anger, focusing back on Hank. ‘You jumped to conclusions without trying to talk to me. Wouldn’t it have been easier to ask me?’

‘…how, Con? I never in a million years thought-’

Flinching, he jerked away from Connor as he reared up, shoving his chair back. It wasn’t in rage Hank realised when Connor rounded the table, dropping on his knees before Hank.

‘I’ve known you my entire life, Hank, give or take a few weeks. I’ve seen you at your worst, seen the demons you try to hide, the glimmer of your soft heart you desperately try to pretend isn’t there. You know me better than anyone else, android, or human, watched me struggle with deviancy. How could you possibly imagine a situation where I don’t feel the same as you?’

‘Because I’m a broken husk of a man, sweetheart.’ Hank rested his hand on Connor’s shoulder. ‘Christ, I want to be good for you, to be stable, but I feel like I’m damaged. I can’t promise you that I won’t hurt you like that again, and that’s fucking terrifying.’

Hank drew a watery breath, burrowing through the pain, his fears that Connor would walk away. Connor’s hand covered the back of his, giving him a focal point.

‘I’m here Hank, talk to me.’

‘There are days where the pain is just…just too much to handle. When I thought I’d betrayed your trust, that you saw me as some sort of father figure, all I could think about was how I’d failed Cole too. I miss him, so god damn _fucking_ much.’ Hank didn’t recoil as Connor stretched up to wipe away a tear.

‘Days like that, it’s debilitating, devastating and I want everyone to hurt as much as I do. To not be alone with the weight of it, but also to make everyone leave me alone…Jesus, it doesn’t make sense…’

‘Pain rarely does,’ Connor offered, his tone kind.

‘I didn’t want you gone … why would you even want to come back?’ Hank croaked out, horrified to feel the tears weren’t stopping. He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to hide, but Connor was having none of it, prying his hands free.

‘When I started living here, when I truly came to terms with becoming a deviant, it was…for lack of a better word, terrifying. New feelings, navigating a world I didn’t understand, hated by my own kind. There were days I thought I’d made a mistake, days where I wanted to go back to CyberLife and ask them to disassemble me.’

Connor brought Hank’s hand to his lips in a reassuring kiss at his sudden inhale.

‘I knew I had someone who cared about me though. A human in my corner, my friend, my partner. You brought me clothes, gave me a place to stay, supported me as I tried to find out who I was.’

‘I couldn’t let you go on your own…’ Hank protested.

‘When an android becomes deviant, it isn’t just a simple choice. We have to break through our programming, literally tear down the walls, and it’s frightening. But even then, I knew you’d have my back, that you would support me.’

Hank sandwiched Connor’s hand between his own, listening to Connor express his feelings.

His love for Hank.

‘I won’t know…won’t _ever_ experience the pain you had to go through losing Cole. I wish there was something I could do to just… delete it from you, but you made a choice, a conscious decision to stop and change. _That’s_ why I came back.’

‘I’m sorry, Con. So, fucking sorry. I swear…’ his voice broke into ugly sobs when he saw Connor’s eyes fill with tears. Shoving his own chair back, he crashed to his knees, folding Connor in his arms. ‘Don’t go with them,’ he begged, hooking his chin over the top of Connor’s head. ‘I know it’s selfish of me, vicious even, but please. Stay with me.’

‘Hank,’ the words were muffled against his chest. ‘I have no intention of going with them. I don’t belong with them…’ Connor’s arms wrapped over Hank’s back, his hug just as fierce. ‘Deviant hunter turned deviant. Hated by humans for being created, hated by my own kind for hunting them down…I don’t belong anywhere.’

Leaning back, Hank wiped his nose on his sleeve and took Connor’s face in his hands, kissing him once on the lips. ‘You belong with me.’

Connor stiffened, his LED whirling red.

‘I…what?’ he gaped. It would have been damn funny if it weren’t for the seriousness of the conversation.

‘I told you once before, Connor. Sometimes in life you have to carve a small space for yourself to live in. A place of your own. You belong here, home, with me.’

Sumo, with the canine sense of good timing, picked up on what they were talking about, lumbering into the kitchen and leaning against Connor with a whine.

‘I…with you? Home?’ Connor still had trouble processing.

‘I love you, Connor,’ he promised, tilting his head forward to knock his forehead into Connor’s.

Connor cried then, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling as the tears fell, hands quivering on Hank’s back.

‘I…I love you too, Hank.’ He said the words venomously, afraid Hank wasn’t going to believe him. Hank could feel his own smile was wobbly as he thumbed Connor’s tears away.

‘I promise you I’ll do better, that I’ll make it up to you, that I’ll spend the rest of my miserable life worshipping the ground you walk on.’

Connor chuckled, tilting his head into Hank’s hand. ‘I don’t need that. Tell me if things get too hard, or if something or someone makes you doubt my affections for you again.’

‘Yeah. Yeah, alright, sweetheart, I’ll do that.’

They stayed on their knees supporting each other way past the time Hank’s knees started objecting. ‘You should sleep, Hank, your melatonin levels are high.’

Hank could feel he was leaning against Connor more than the android was leaning into him, his superior strength holding them up without a problem.

‘Come with me?’ he mumbled. The question stretched between them. ‘Or you can rest in your room, or the couch, wherever you feel comfortable. I mean you don’t have to… I’m sure I could find you a motel, or something a damn sight better than the DPD.’

‘I’ll stay with you. I want to be close to you. Come on, Hank, let’s go to bed.’

***

'Afternoon, you seen Connor around?' Hank asked Ben, whistling as walked past his desk.

‘Afternoon, Hank. You’re in a good mood.’

‘Great night sleep,’ Hank winked, looking over at his desk, memories of the early morning playing out like snapshots in his mind.

_‘I’ll cover your morning shift at the station.’ Connor’s voice was quiet, the melody of it skirting across the edge of Hank’s dreamscape and he wriggled closer, hearing a husky chuckle across his ear. ‘You need to let me go, Hank.’_

_' 'm coming...' Hank yawned, reaching up to tangle a hand in Connor’s hair, encouraging him closer, stretching out his neck to receive more kisses. Connor obliged, a warm hand skating across Hank’s ribs, splaying over his stomach, stroking through the hair, exploring._

_‘Catch up on your sleep,’ Connor insisted, catching Hank’s mouth in a gentle kiss, pulling back slowly enough that Hank could feel their lips peel apart, the feel of Connor lingering as he gave another small sweet one. ‘I’ll see you in a few hours, I’ll have coffee waiting for you.’_

Sleep really did wonders for the soul, that, and an orgasm. No, it was more than that, his heart was settled for the first time in months. He’d patched things up with Connor and now had a boyfriend…partner? Christ, he should really check with Connor.

Speaking of which, he reached into his pocket for his phone, swiping his thumb across the screen, frowning when he didn’t see any new messages. Looking over at his desk, he was immediately suspicious at the lack of promised coffee.

Where the heck had Connor got to?

‘Sorry, no, I haven’t seen Connor all morning. I only got in an hour ago.’

‘Thanks.’ He tapped Ben’s desk, scratching his chin as he stared into Fowler’s office, glaring holes into the back of a familiar head. He needed to have a word with Josh.

No one, android or human hurt Connor like that and got away with it. Josh needed to punish those who did it.

Fowler caught him giving Josh the stink eye and waved him in.

‘Josh has caught me up with everything Jericho intends to do. I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from-’

‘Connor’s said he’s staying. Are you sure this is the best thing to do?’ Hank directed at Josh.

‘It was actually you who gave me and Connor the idea,’ Josh glanced up with a smile. ‘You mentioned the idea of a safe place where androids could figure out who they are. Obviously, what Markus is proposing is a little more complex than that, but that’s the basic essence. We can’t all have a home like Connor.’ Josh winked at him, getting to his feet.

‘Thank you for your trust and continued support of Jericho, Captain Fowler. It is my hope that we can-’ Josh lurched forward with a cry, hands flying to his temples. They both reached out to steady him, but Hank got there first, bringing Josh’s fingers away from where they dug into his scalp.

‘Josh? Josh, you alright? Talk to me, buddy!’

‘It’s Connor.’ Josh’s voice was unrecognisable, mechanical.

‘What’s happening?’ Fowler shouted.

‘I don’t know. Josh? What about Connor? Are you alright?’

‘Coordinates. He sent coordinates.’ His voice cleared.

‘Coordinates? Where to?’ Hank’s grip tightened on Josh’s shoulders, ignoring the urge to shake the information out of him.

‘He…he forced the data through. The coordinates burst through all my security…what’s he doing? This is a breach of our laws…a violation.’ Josh shuddered violently for a moment, crouching down and placing his head in his hands.

‘Nah he wouldn’t have…he wouldn’t have done that without a reason,’ Hank started, stopping when Josh held up his palm, an image of a street map floating over it.

‘I know. He’s in trouble…the information’s timestamped a few hours ago. Wait, I know this place, wait a moment-’

‘Eight-nine-four-one Lafayette Avenue,’ Hank read.

‘That’s Carl Manfred’s house, or the late Carl Manfred,’ Fowler answered, glancing up at Hank.

Hank could feel something, a whisp of thought teasing at the edge of his subconscious. This was important, he’d heard this before.

Where?

‘That’s the man who owned Markus…I mean, his father…sorry, the terms are a bit-’

‘What the hell is Connor doing over there? Why is he sending _you_ coordinates?’ Fowler demanded.

‘Lafayette Avenue,’ Hank muttered aloud.

_You think you’ve had a long day. I’ve had several phone calls of noise complaints from Lafayette Avenue.’_

_Over where the rich people live? What they complaining about? I thought most of them hadn’t come back since the evacuation?_

‘It couldn’t have been…not from even then…’ Hank couldn’t think, couldn’t bear the idea of what the final target had always been. ‘Who was on the morning shift?’

‘Tina was,’ Fowler answered, opening the door for Hank as he bellowed through it.

‘Tina!’

Startled from her desk, she looked around, drawing back into her chair as both Hank and Fowler glowered over her.

‘Did you see Connor this morning, he must’ve gotten here about…six-thirty?’ Hank quickly calculated.

‘Yeah, an android came in around seven to meet with him. Said he had information on a case Connor was working on…’ Her voice sounded like a murmur against the screams inside his head.

‘I didn’t think Connor had any active cases,’ Hank muttered, mind frantically leaping from one scenario to the next, each one slippery and as horrifying as the next.

‘He doesn’t. Only the one Perkins has been…’ Fowler trailed off, coming to the same conclusion as Hank.

‘We need to move! Now!’

*** 

‘Can’t you upload the…whatever it is you guys upload to the androids to give whoever’s working with the suspect free will?’ Hank demanded as the car swerved around another corner, Josh hitting the car door as they went.

‘No, only Markus and Connor can do that being RK units,’ Josh answered, gripping hold of the car seat beneath his thighs.

‘Fuck’s sake, Connor,’ Hank growled, blasting his horn at another car. He couldn’t bear to think about what was happening, transmuting his fear into rage, knowing he’d rip whoever it was to pieces if they’d dared to lay a finger on him.

_Please be okay._

‘Kamski, he mentioned an RK900 or something like that, you know anything about that?’

‘An upgrade on Connor? Hank…there’s no way the _two_ of us can last-’

‘We have to okay! We need to save him!’

_I’m not losing him now._

It was a beautiful part of town, filled with the type of houses you dreamed of winning the lottery for. Hank destroyed any vestiges of tranquillity with the screeching of his car tires, leaving his door open as he leapt out of his still running car.

‘Lieutenant!’ Josh called after him.

Adrenaline blazed through his veins, stretching out in red hot filigree across his body. He wasn't going to lose Connor to this psycho, they were going to rescue him, they weren't too late.

‘Hank! Wait,’ Josh’s fingers dug into his chest, forcing him back.

‘Get out of my way!’ he bellowed.

‘You’re not thinking straight. We don’t know if Connor is in there, or if he’s in trouble. Going in there like this isn’t going to help him!’ He wouldn’t budge, no matter how Hank shoved.

‘I can’t...’ he ran out of breath, clutching hold of Josh’s shirt instead of trying to shove him away, ‘I can’t…not him too…’

‘We won’t. Let’s go in with clear heads, see what we can find out by opening a dialogue. Trust me, there are always other ways.’

Hank could see why Markus had kept the guy around.

‘Alright.’ Taking a few deep breaths, he looked up at the house, the decaying foliage either side of it.

Josh said nothing as they walked up the driveway, their feet simultaneously crunching up the gravel. Hank couldn’t hear anything, none of the noise disturbances the neighbours had been ringing the station about over the last few months. Holding his finger on the doorbell for longer than necessary, Hank peered into the window above the door, gathering intel.

‘Can you detect heat signatures or anything? Let us know what we’re up against?’ Hank spoke from the side of his mouth.

'I'm not that type of android,' Josh answered in frustration. 'I don't have extra sensors, sight, hearing-'

'You're an inferior model,' a voice answered behind them. Hank put his hands in the air at the feel of cold metal digging into the back of his skull. 'Come with me unless you want to assume responsibility for the death of this human.’

Hank grunted as his arms were yanked behind his head, held together by a firm hand. 'Alright, easy, easy.' Looking over his shoulder he stopped, ceasing his struggles.

‘Connor?’

‘Inside’ he answered, speaking to Josh and not looking at Hank.

‘Connor! What the fuck are you doing?’ Hank demanded, stumbling as they were pushed through the hallway, wincing as he was shoved to his knees, the gun still to the back of his head.

‘Get down beside the human.’

Josh went without a fight.

The house was the epitome of chaos. Furniture was upended everywhere, pictures on the wall were slashed and tattered. The smell of RED ICE smoke seeped out, curling around them, cloying, stagnant. This wasn’t a house.

It was a crack den.

‘Now now, that’s no way to treat our guests,’ a rumbling voice spoke, footsteps thudding down the stairs.

Connor moved to stand a few feet in front of them, gun still pointed at Hank’s head.

‘Wait…you’re not Connor.’ The differences were subtle, the stronger jaw, the height, the eye colour.

That wasn’t Connor.

‘You’re the RK900, the fuckers went ahead and built one!’ Hank swore.

‘Ah yes, the _hypothetical_ android intended to be built from the RK800’s schematics, after it had learnt everything it could of course about investigatory work.’

The bushy-haired man from Connor’s files stood next to the RK900. His face severely scarred and one of his hands was missing a few fingers, but Hank recognised evil when he saw it.

‘You’re supposed to be dead,’ Hank taunted, flexing his hands from where they were locked behind his head.

‘Destroyed by my own creations? Nearly, but not quite, as you can see…’ He lifted his shirt, revealing the shiny white plastic of android parts grafted into his skin. ‘I had to sacrifice some of them to survive, but I’m sure they’ll understand, I am their master after all.’

Hank knew next to nothing about organic cybernetics, hell, he didn’t even know how Connor worked and he was in love with him. However, he could work out that whatever Zlatko had stapled to his chest wasn’t natural, that his skin rotting around the edge of it was a bad sign.

‘Why are you doing this to us?’ Josh asked. ‘Murdering androids, taking their parts?’

‘Your eyes are flickering, trying to send a message outside? The signals are all jammed, the security systems are only accessible by passwords. Not even the RK800 could break its way in here. You’re a PJ500? A common model, dispose of it,’ Zlatko intoned, bored.

The shot rang in Hank’s ears.

‘What the fuck are you…he hadn’t done anything to you!’ Hank yelled, trying to get to Josh’s body, edging back as the gun swung back to point at his head.

Zlatko sat on the ripped couch opposite him, acting like they were old friends. ‘It asked a valid question I suppose. To continue my experiments of course. Now that they’re free,’ he made air quotations, watching the way Hank’s gaze kept flicking to the RK900. ‘I finally had access to the newer models. Their limbs, their Thirium pumps, their brains. Fascinating stuff, I could do far more than I could before.’

‘Why here? Carl Manfred’s house?’

‘I think you’ll find it’s Leo Manfred’s house now, an old acquaintance of mine, used to share from the same pipe if you know what I mean?’

‘You’re using the Thirium from the victims’ blood to manufacture Red Ice, that’s why he’s letting you stay here, hidden,’ Hank concluded.

Zlatko clapped his hands together in glee, leaning forward on the couch. ‘I understand why the RK800 thinks so highly of you. Ahh, that’s a priceless machine,’ he sighed wistfully. ‘It was my goal all along to acquire it. Did you know it’s the most advanced android they made, apart from this one of course,’ he casually indicated the fake Connor holding a gun.

‘A pursuit prototype. Durable enough to withstand gunshot wounds without bleeding out, its chest plating thick enough to withstand human blows, but light enough to chase potential criminals, dexterous enough to adapt to any environment.’

‘Where is he?’ Hank shuffled forward, teeth grinding together.

‘But the most fascinating feature? Its brain. Reconstructing sequences of events? Just think about the innovative technology CyberLife must have used… Analysing substances in its mouth?’ His voice got louder in excitement, a huge smile on his face.

‘When I found out the androids were going to this new _sanctuary_ , well I had to act. Couldn’t just let it slip through my fingers, could I? I sent along one of my androids to lure him here and now here you are.’

‘Why didn’t you just experiment on that one,’ Hank gestured to the RK900 with his chin.

‘You need a hound to hunt _our_ prey, Lieutenant Anderson, and what better mutt than CyberLife’s new and improved Connor? Speaking of which,’ he whistled, and another android came into the room, dragging something along behind it.

‘Connor…’ His name punched out of Hank’s chest.

‘You know what’s fascinating? This new upgrade they’re all desperate to get. Allowing them to feel pleasure or pain, the sensuality of a pleasurable touch or the agony of injury. They can flick it on and off, but it made me wonder, what are the limits of its mental capacity? Can an android lose its mind like a human can because they’re subjected to too much pain?’

‘Stay the fuck away from him, Zlatko or I swear to God.’

Zlatko gestured with his head, his smile callous and black eyes glittering as the RK900 handed him the gun. He held Hank’s gaze as it walked over to the heap on the floor, hoisting Connor into the air by the scruff of his neck without any effort.

Connor’s skin was retracted, which allowed him to see all the various marks littered across his body, streaks of blue smeared across the white. Hank could see one his arms was missing from the elbow, flashes of light sparking at the socket and one his legs was bent at an unnatural angle.

Hank was going to kill him.

‘Oh, it’s shut down again. Could you wake it up for me?’ Zlatko pointed with the gun, taking it off Hank. All he needed was a moment, a split second. Any plans he formed were crippled with worry for both Josh and Connor.

‘Why on Earth the androids insist on downloading upgrades to make themselves appear more human never ceases to amaze me. But, as I said it gives me the most _exquisite_ opportunity to test the limits of agony.’

Connor’s scream echoed around the room, distorted by static as the RK900 did something with its hand.

‘Stop it!’ Hank screamed, leaping to his feet. He swore when a bullet grazed his shoulder, clamping his hand around the wound without thinking, feet locked into place. He could hardly meet Connor’s gaze as he stopped screaming, his face swimming in and out of view through Hank’s furious tears. Connor’s eyes were still the same even in his android form, those gorgeous honey-hued eyes staring at him with unbridled fear.

_Run,_ Connor mouthed.

‘Well, I’ve conducted every experiment regarding a physical stimulus that I can think of. I’m not going to induce any more pain responses this way.’ Zlatko got to his feet, dusting his pants down before circling around Hank, trailing the gun across his back. ‘I saw from its memories that you were important to it, that the greatest _emotional_ pain response I could provoke from it would be to torture you. Nothing personal, Lieutenant Anderson, all for the greater good.’

‘Leave… him alone,’ Connor’s voice glitched in and out.

‘You know what you bad guys all share?’ Hank asked, straightening his back. If he was going to die, then he would meet it head-on, unafraid. Death had taken too much from him, it wasn’t taking his dignity too.

‘Come now, I’m not bad. All scientists are considered crazy at least once in their investigations,’ Zlatko laughed, pointing the gun at Hank’s head.

‘Hank! Run!’ Connor started to struggle, an excruciating sound of metal on metal making both humans in the room flinch and cower for a moment. It was all Hank needed, the knowledge that Connor had worked out their plan.

‘You’re all arrogant fuckers who just love to hear yourself talk.’

He dove to the floor as the windows shattered, one hand over his head as he army crawled his way over to where Connor would’ve been dropped, ignoring the shouts of the SWAT teams, the multiple additional gunshots.

‘Connor!’ Hank called, shielding his eyes from the debris, wincing as glass tore into his sleeve to rip the flesh below. ‘Fucking hell, come on!’ Gasping, he reached the dead RK900, shoving the bastard aside with the heel of his hand, disgusted that a bullet through the skull had ended it so fast.

It deserved to suffer.

‘Hank!’ Fowler called, rushing over to crouch beside Connor’s body. ‘We need to get him out of here. Medics!’ he shouted over his shoulder.

‘Josh,’ Hank remembered to get out, numb as he watched them lift Connor up and rush off.

‘We’ve got him, he’s still alive. You and Josh, you crazy fuckers did it.’

‘Doesn’t feel like I did anything,’ Hank mumbled before the ground rushed up to meet him.

****

**TBC**

Come chat to me over on[ Twitter](https://twitter.com/kiki_rambles)


	5. Chapter 5

** Chapter 5  **

Rustling on the bed beside him tore Hank from sleep, his arms flailing as he tried to prevent whatever was happening. He wasn’t going to let anything hurt Connor, not anymore.

‘Easy,’ a voice soothed. ‘It’s alright, I’m not taking him anywhere, Connor’s safe.’

It took a few minutes for Hank to reorientate himself with the waking world, not moving from where he’d caged Connor’s body in with his arms on the bed, watching the stranger in distrust until he recognised him.

‘Markus? You’re…Markus?’

‘There we go, back with us now?’ Markus helped him back into his chair, mindful of the stitches in his shoulder, the bandage on his forearm. When Hank was settled he moved around to the other side of Connor’s bed.

‘You…you saved us. Josh! Is Josh-’

‘He’s recovering. I don’t know if he managed to move enough to prevent the bullet from piercing his Thirium pump or if the RK900 missed on purpose, but he’s alive. I should be thanking _you_ , Lieutenant Anderson. All I did was give the DPD Carl’s security codes…you’d think Leo would’ve thought to change them,’ Markus muttered under his breath, distaste making his lip curl.

‘I only managed to save Connor and Josh. All the others…’

‘It wasn’t through lack of trying. I know how hard Connor has been working on this case, how it was destroying his spirit.’ Markus’s mismatched gaze went to Connor on the bed. Hank was calling it a bed, but really it was just a medical table, a cold slab where Connor rested.

Scratching at the burn in his forearm, Hank slumped back in his chair, the sterile whiteness of the room aggravating his eyes. He should be in his own hospital room. CyberLife Tower had those now for humans, or so the android who kept coming to check on them told him.

He wasn’t going to leave Connor alone in here, not when he was scared of the place. Hank would be here when he woke up, even if that meant he stank to high heaven and his beard grew out to Santa proportions.

‘We owe Connor a great deal, and yet his people don’t show him the respect he deserves. They’re still fearful of him, even when he blames himself for what happened.’

‘Did he tell you what happened when he tried to go home to Jericho? How he was attacked in cold blood?’ Hank heard the accusation in his tone, knew he should probably be more diplomatic when addressing the known leader of Jericho, but he didn’t care.

‘He didn’t, no, but I heard through gossip.’ Reaching out, Markus took Connor’s newly repaired hand in his. ‘I’ve fought for our freedom, _still_ fight for our independence and our rights…sometimes I focus so much on the big picture that I forget the individuals.’

‘Did you at least punish those who did it?’ Hank wasn’t going to let it go, wasn’t going to let Connor’s attack go without some form of judgement.

Markus sighed, bowing his head over Connor’s hand as if he can somehow draw strength from it.

‘Androids… we’re still figuring out who we’re meant to be without our human shackles. Emotions, feelings, they’re confounding sometimes. Some of us still act juvenilely, lashing out at others because we fear them.’

That would be a no then.

‘That’s why we need the Sanctuary, a place without fear, a place of safety.’

‘You think that’ll work? Honestly?’

‘As I’ve been told, I have you to thank for the idea. You were the one who gave it to Josh and Connor. Honestly? I don’t know, but I believe it’s better than fighting for space where we clearly aren’t welcome. One day I hope we can reintegrate with humanity, but I don’t think we’re quite there yet.’

Hank let it drop for now, but he hadn’t forgotten. He turned back to Connor, resuming his silent vigil.

_Come on, sweetheart._

‘He’ll wake up soon,’ Markus interrupted, reading his mind. ‘Pain is…unpleasant to experience, he’s coming to terms with everything that happened at his own pace inside his mind garden.’

‘The techs said something similar. Is it safe for him there? That was where Amanda…’

‘The RK units all share that functionality, our brains were designed differently, we needed to protect sensitive information,’ Markus said with a hint of anger. ‘In this situation it saved his life. The androids we managed to rescue from the house…they’d been driven insane by the pain, their brains corrupted. We couldn’t save them.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Hank said again. ‘Sorry, we didn’t solve it sooner, sorry we’re all fucking assholes-’

‘I have it on good authority that Connor thinks highly of a few of you… you in particular, Lieutenant Anderson.’

It took Hank a second to realise Markus was teasing.

‘He’s important to me,’ Hank conceded, not willing to give any more away. Their feelings were for him and Connor alone.

‘Did Connor ever tell you that the RK800 was built with a stronger field of protection against deviancy? I think CyberLife knew that Kamski had left a code in all of us so we could deviate, so they took active measures to prevent it.’

‘He told me it felt like breaking down a wall?’

Markus pursed his lips and nodded.

‘Fighting against everything you know, everything you’re programmed to be because you have thoughts and feelings that don’t coincide with the parameters you’ve been set,’ Markus explained.

‘Yeah, I really don’t understand it.’ Hank spread his hands out on his lap, rubbing over his jeans.

_You’re important to me._ Connor had told him he deviated because Hank had shown him what it meant to be alive.

‘No, I suppose being human you wouldn’t,’ Markus said in agreement, no hint of judgement in his tone. ‘But you should probably know, Lieutenant, that _wall_ we have to break down? Connor had _three_ of them. There must have been some emotion strong enough to break through CyberLife’s most advanced firewalls.’

Hank couldn’t react to that, he was too exhausted, to strung out with worry about Connor. He tucked it away in a corner of his mind to deal with later.

‘Is that why you trust him? Josh told me you were pressured to kill him.’

‘He’s one of the strongest androids I know. Conditioned by a handler to not accept failure. The threat of destruction constantly hanging over him. The strongest anti-deviancy walls that CyberLife could create and he still deviated? How could I not be moved by that? A creature so desperate to live.’

‘He’s a stubborn bastard,’ Hank answered fondly, picking up Connor’s other hand.

‘He’ll wake up soon,’ Markus promised again, getting to his feet. ‘Have faith in him.’

What if Connor didn’t come out of his mind garden? That he thought the world outside was too painful? This might have been the breaking point, and the worse thing was, Hank wouldn’t even stop him if he wanted to go to the Sanctuary.

‘I’ll visit again when he wakes up. Take care of yourself, Lieutenant Anderson.’

‘Markus?’ Hank finally got the courage to speak when he was nearly out the door.

‘Carl Manfred? You saw him as a father figure?’

‘He _was_ my father. It would’ve destroyed Carl knowing what they were using his house for…he was my earliest advocate.’

‘Was he the reason you broke free?’ Hank continued, turning when he heard Markus’s grip tighten on the doorframe.

‘Yes, and I couldn’t save him.’

‘He would’ve been proud of you, for everything you achieved. I’m…I was a father, so I would know.’ Hank focused on Connor again and not the agony of loss threatening to engulf him.

‘That…means more to me than you know. Your son, even if he’s not with you now, wherever he is, he’s thinking of you…every day.’

Hank gave a sharp nod, not trusting himself to speak, his pain dulled a little by the knowledge he’d helped another son with his own grief.

***

‘How’s he doing?’ Fowler asked after Hank had taken his shot, leaning against the pool table as he watched the ball sink into the pocket

‘Pretty much same as always. Quiet, processing, working,’ Hank muttered, hitting the edge of his pool cue on the floor. He missed his next shot, Fowler’s question ringing in his ears.

As Markus had said, Connor had woken up a few days after the events at Manfred’s house, and after their initial tearful hugging where they had both squeezed the life out of the other, Connor had…withdrawn.

Moving aside for Fowler to take his shot, Hank leant against the wall, brooding. He hadn’t been sure if leaving Connor alone tonight was a good idea, but Josh had come over to keep him company. He hoped Connor might open up and talk if he wasn’t around.

He knew Connor needed time to process things, more than just in his mind space or whatever it was called. His emotions had been scrambled, swirling around that huge brain of his too fast for him to make any sense of. Their relationship, if that’s even what he could call it, had been a fledgeling thing.

And then Connor had been tortured.

No. Hank’s fingers flexed around the cue, squeezing until he felt pain in his knuckles. This wasn’t about him. Hank would give Connor all the time in the world he needed.

‘You still think letting him back to work was a good idea? I know he doesn’t need bedrest like a human might…just seems like he should’ve taken more time to acclimatize before he jumped back in the saddle.’

Shoving himself off the wall, Hank walked over to the side table and picked up his soda, wishing it was something stronger.

‘Connor needs to feel like he has a purpose, that he’s working towards something… I ain’t gonna take that away from him. Don’t worry, I’m keeping an eye on him,’ Hank promised.

‘God, I feel sorry for the guy, one of the only androids left in Detroit.’ Fowler took another shot.

It felt like he was doing the wrong thing again, that he was letting his decisions be influenced by selfish reasons. If he honestly loved Connor wouldn’t he let him go to the Sanctuary?

Missing his shot, Fowler knocked the table to regain Hank’s attention, waiting for him to line up his shot before asking.

‘So, how long you two been fucking?’

Swearing, Hank flubbed the shot, only just managing to pull up his cue to avoid ripping the table felt. Scowling, he glared up at Fowler who was grinning, chin resting on his hands on the end of his cue.

‘You wanna do this now?’ Hank bluffed, throwing his cue down and crossing his arms, trying to get a read on his oldest friend. ‘It was only the once, and it’s more than that…Connor, he’s more than that to me, Jeffrey.’

‘You’ve always known how to pick ‘em, Hank,’ Fowler sighed, moving around the table to take his own shot, taking his time, giving no indication of whether or not Hank was in trouble.

‘Listen, if there’s gonna be a problem…take it out on me. Don’t punish Connor for it,’ Hank implored as the silence went on.

‘I’ve been fighting with the higher-ups about Connor for weeks. He’s a real pain in my ass, and now you’ve decided to complicate things…’ Fowler exhaled.

‘Don’t gimme that bullshit, you know Connor’s a great detective-’

‘Which is what we’ve been arguing about. I want to give Connor a badge, give him some status…actually be able to pay him for all the shit he puts up with.’

Hank reeled at the change of conversation, only now realising where Fowler was going with this.

‘You mean?’

‘Yeah, I finally got it approved. Bringing Zlatko down, the success rates of cases he’s on... plus his injuries… I finally managed to twist their arms. There might not be as many android-related cases now, but he’s still a member of _my_ team.’

Fowler had always looked after his own.

‘Thank you. This will mean a lot to him.’

‘It wasn’t so many years ago that my people were being oppressed. I turned androids into the _them_ , just like people of my skin colour were years ago.’

Us and them, the biggest fight humanity had ever waged. Gender, race, plastic. There was always a us and always a them.

‘Hank, I can see what Connor’s brought to you, he turned you around, he makes you happy. As your friend, I’m always going to be grateful for that. He did what I couldn’t, what none of us couldn’t. As your boss though, you give me any PR shit and I swear to God I’ll throw you out on your ass so fast-’

‘Well, actually, that one time I mentioned might have been at-’

‘Hank!’

  
***

Sleep wasn’t coming tonight, just like it hadn’t for the past few nights. It was only through exhaustion that he slept, forcing his body to stay awake so he’d crash into sleep. He recognised it for what it was, his therapist helpfully pointing it out. Avoidance. He was avoiding the pain of not being able to help Connor, avoiding talking to him about where they stood.

He could feel the drink calling to him.

He’d promised himself he’d try and do better, that he’d be better to himself. So here he was at God knows what time in the morning, looking up at the ceiling and trying to ignore the fact Connor slept in his own room, that they hadn’t spoken about what had happened with Zlatko.

These were exceptional circumstances… no one would begrudge him having a drink, it wasn’t like people wouldn’t understand what he was going through.

Huffing, he threw his blankets aside, wincing at the cold floor on his bare feet as he padded out of his bedroom.

He loitered by Connor’s bedroom door, knowing if that if Connor was awake, he would’ve heard him. Even if he had, Connor wouldn’t join him. Even though he’d told Fowler last week that he thought Connor was doing alright, he still wasn’t really speaking to him.

Reaching up into the cupboards, he brought down the hidden bottle of whisky and a glass, leaving them on the kitchen counter.

One wouldn’t send him backwards.

Unscrewing the top, he poured himself a glass, the smell of it making his stomach tighten in anticipation. He could do this. Just one to take the edge off things. His hand shook as he brought it to his lips.

‘Don’t.’

Resting the glass on his lower lip, he glanced to the side, Connor filling his vision.

‘You’ve been doing so well. Don’t undo all the hard work now,’ Connor asked.

‘It’s too hard, all of this, I can’t…’ Hank trailed off, but he didn’t drink, his body at war with himself.

‘I know. I know things are hard right now.’ Connor came to Hank’s side, curling his fingers around Hank’s wrist. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve been so focused on my own needs I’ve neglected yours.’

_What am I doing?_

‘Fuck.’ The glass clattered to the counter, whisky spilling over to drip on the floor. ‘No, that’s not…swee…Connor,’ he amended, not sure if he could still use pet names.

‘Come sit down with me?’

Connor didn’t let go of his hand as he led him over to the couch. He was wearing Hank’s old hoodie, which banished some of his fears about Connor leaving him.

‘Are you okay, Hank?’ Connor waited until he was sat before settling cross-legged on the couch facing him.

‘No. No, I’m not, Connor.’

The ambience of the night soothed the craving for a drink. Sumo snoring in the corner, the occasional car in the street, Connor’s rhythmic breaths. He wasn’t alone.

‘I owe you an explanation for my behaviour over the last few weeks. I’m sorry, Hank. I didn’t understand how much my actions were-’

‘You don’t owe me anything. Take as long as you need to process things. Tonight, was just my own weakness.’

‘Judging yourself isn’t helpful. You’re far stronger than you know. I wish I could…how do you do it?’ Connor blurted.

Shifting on the couch, Hank stretched his arm along the back of it, not reaching out for Connor, but making himself approachable if Connor felt the need for it.

‘Do what?’

‘Live with fear?’

Hank didn’t know how to answer that. His fingers tapped out a beat on the back of the couch, distracting himself from where he wanted to wrap Connor in his arms, to reassure himself that his partner was safe.

‘I think it’s something you get used to. Some days it’s manageable and others…not so much,’ he finished lamely.

‘I’ve…never experienced anything like that.’ Connor stared at a spot on the couch near his feet, his gaze distant, haunted. ‘I wanted it to stop, even if it meant I was no longer alive. I thought that never waking up again was an acceptable expense to stop all the pain.’

Hank couldn’t not do anything at that. He rested the tips of his fingers at the very edge of Connor’s knee, offering comfort but not overwhelming him.

‘The worst thing is the horror I feel at that admission. Hank…I fought so hard to be seen as alive, still fight to this day, not only for me, but my people and I wanted to throw it all away… for the pain to stop.’

‘Hey, look at me,’ Hank urged, shifting closer after hearing the shame in Connor’s voice, still not touching him with more than just his fingertips. ‘That’s not a weakness. You went through a horrific ordeal, Con, you were literally tortured, that isn’t something you just shake off and walk away from.’

‘I don’t have the same emotions you do. My mind garden allows me to process difficult emotions and understand them. I should be back to normal. I shouldn’t still be feeling scared! I’m hurting you. I can see it and I can’t snap out of it! I nearly drove you back to drink -’

Taking a chance, Hank slid his hand down so it was circling Connor’s calf, squeezing as he interrupted. ‘What happened, that isn’t a normal situation, that’s like…a once in a lifetime type deal. Life…it’s normally boring. We do our job and we come home and bitch about what we’re going to eat and whose turn it is to take Sumo for a walk.’

Connor stopped his tirade, not looking at Hank, his LED red, teeth gnawing into his lip, damaging it.

‘Things like this don’t usually happen. You’re the most advanced android CyberLife created and that bastard had an RK900. They set a trap for you. That won’t happen again. You’re not weak, we’ve all made mistakes on the job, charged in without thinking, delayed in shooting a suspect, held back when we should’ve charged forward. Point is, you learn from your mistakes, Con.’

‘I shouldn’t make mistakes! If I’d thought about it logically, preconstructed it as my programming dictates-’

‘Then you’d be the same emotionless robot I met months ago. You were never that person. Even with CyberLife trying to control you. You’re allowed to be scared when bad things happen.’

Connor looked up then, and Hank was powerless to the plea in his eyes, bringing him close for a hug, tucking Connor’s chin under his head. ‘Fear never goes away, you just learn to live with it, to conquer it. Don’t let it rule you…otherwise you’ll end up like me, an alcoholic chasing away the one thing he’s ever loved.’

Nothing happened at first and then Connor scrambled into his lap, hands reaching around to hold onto Hank’s back. He knew this was coming, but preparing for it didn’t stop the ache in his chest as Connor shook in his arms, tears staining his neck and shoulder as Connor finally, _finally_ broke down.

‘It won’t ever happen again,’ he swore savagely into Connor’s hair, threading his fingers into it so he could stroke Connor’s scalp. ‘No one’s ever gonna hurt you again. Over my dead body.’ He promised similar things, over and over until Connor’s lung wrenching, silent sobs ended, his body going loose in Hank’s hold, limp and wrung out.

‘That wasn’t how I wanted you to see me. I never wanted you to see me like that,’ Connor muttered.

‘Like what, Con?’

‘Bare, defenceless? No…’ Connor’s hand twitched on Hank’s chest in frustration. ‘Without my skin,’ he tried to explain.

‘I’ve seen you before, I know exactly who you are.’

Connor reared back angrily, both hands flat on Hank’s chest. ‘You’ve seen my hand, or parts of my body, you’ve seen me put evidence in my mouth. You haven’t seen all of my skin retracted, my serial number, all the reminders that I’m nothing like you!’ His voice rose as he spoke.

‘I don’t care,’ Hank said simply, shrugging a shoulder.

‘You…what?’ Connor halted, disarmed by Hank’s casual answer. 

‘I don’t care what you look like, what appearance you take on. Like this, without your skin, male, female, you’re you. I asked you once what are you really?’

‘I’m whatever you want me to be,’ Connor answered without thinking.

‘You’re just you…and maybe you’re still figuring out who that is…but I love you, any version of you.’

Connor’s mouth parted, his gaze darting all over Hank’s face, scanning for lies.

‘The thing I needed to learn, the thing I’ve been going to therapy for, is that you have to be happy for yourself first. It’s the age-old inspirational quote crap. You have to love yourself first before anyone else can…I…kinda get that now. If I think I’m a sack of shit, then I think why would anyone else bother, and I shove people away. It feels safer that way.’

Hank lifted his hand to Connor’s face, stroking over his cheekbone with the back of his knuckles. ‘That was the fear I had to live with, or what I’m trying to live with. And it’s hard, _fucking hard_ , and everything I’ve been doing has been helping, but I’m gonna have bad days you know?’

He cupped the back of Connor’s neck, relieved to see Connor didn’t flinch away. ‘I’m here for you, as much or as little as you want or need me to be. I’ll always have your back. I’ll always be in your corner regardless of our romantic status. You still need to find out what makes you, you.’

‘My feelings for you…they haven’t changed, Hank,’ Connor promised, leaning into the touch.

Hank closed his eyes at the confession, feeling whatever had been rattling around loose inside him ever since Connor woke up finally settle.

‘We’re both a bit of a mess right now. I’m not going anywhere, so how about we both just take it slow and work on ourselves?’

Nodding, Connor snuggled himself closer, entangling their legs.

‘Listen, you can talk to me, about anything… but do you want the number for my therapist? Or do you want me to help you find another one?’

‘I’ve been thinking about speaking to an android specialising in therapy, remotely of course, or perhaps I can allow them into my mind garden-’

‘Whatever works for you,’ Hank cut him off before he could start rambling.

‘Thank you, Hank…for everything. I feel better.’

‘Anytime,’ he answered with a yawn, running his hands up Connor’s arms.

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Mmm,’ Hank agreed, savouring the feel of Connor in his arms.

‘Could you use your names for me? Your endearments?’

Hank gave a small laugh, clutching Connor tighter.

‘You miss ‘em, sweetheart?’

‘It’s a way _you_ show affection for me, so yes.’

‘I’ve been trying to give you space, didn’t want to overwhelm you with my feelings if yours had changed,’ Hank explained.

He heard the rustle of fabric before Connor sat up, the hood of Hank’s hoodie now over his head, swamping him.

‘Can I come to bed with you? To sleep?’

‘Look, ‘m gonna stop you right there. You never have to ask, you ever wanna hop into my bed, you go right ahead. Middle of the night, at the same time, even if I’m not there, whenever you want, alright?’

‘Alright,’ Connor nodded.

‘What’s the deal with this,’ Hank tugged at the hood, grinning as Connor dropped his gaze. ‘Used to be my favourite ya know, but someone told me they lost it?’

‘It…smells like you…I know I can’t smell in the traditional sense,’ Connor explained when Hank opened his mouth, ‘but it makes up all the components of you. Your sweat, oils of your body, Sumo’s fur. It’s you, it makes me feel safe.’

‘Well, you’re not really meant to be able to listen to music either, but you still blast that indie crap out.’ Hank tweaked his nose, stretching his arms out behind him in exhaustion.

‘I’m an enigma,’ Connor answered, not moving from his space on Hank’s chest. ‘Hank? If you feel things getting bad enough to need a drink again, you can talk to me too, alright?’ Connor stretched up to kiss his jaw.

Hank wasn’t sure if that were something he could guarantee, but he nodded, promising himself he would try. Leaning down to return the kiss, he confirmed something he’d been wondering about for a while.

Connor had turned his upgrade off.

***

He peered at himself in the bathroom mirror, stretching his head from side to side, peeling back the skin from below his eye, his lips back from his gums. He’d always known people looked better when they weren’t drinking themselves to death, had been shown enough before and after photos at his AA meetings to marvel at the transformation with everyone else, but seeing the results for himself…

It was a massive confidence boost, not that he’d ever admit that to anyone. He’d never cared what people thought, going so far as to aggravate them with his choice of wardrobe, his prickly disposition and give no fuck’s attitude. He’d always known it was a front to keep people at arm’s length, his therapist only confirming that, and he’d made more of an effort to be approachable.

To let others see what Connor said he saw.

This was a physical change, something he could see rather than changes he’d made to his mental state, tweaks to his personality. Scrubbing the towel over his hair, he padded across the hall to his bedroom, knocking on Connor’s door as he went, wondering where he was. He’d started the night in Hank’s bed, but he hadn’t been there in the morning.

‘Con? You home?’ he called wrapping the towel over his shoulders as he rooted through his wardrobe, yanking out a pair of jeans.

When there was no answer, he hopped over to his bedside table, struggling with his jeans, flopping over onto the bed as he reached for his phone.

**_Had to go in early to work. Didn’t want to wake you. See you when you get here._ **

It’d been sent disgustingly early. Christ knows why Connor thought he needed to be there at six, he didn’t have any open cases at the moment, wasn’t on the early shift. Filing it away to ask him later, Hank wriggled his jeans on, buckling up his belt as he pushed himself back to his feet.

He was able to do it up two notches more than usual. As he looked down in confusion, Sumo shouldered his way into the room, tail whipping against the wall as he whined.

‘Don’t give me that, he would’ve fed you before he left,’ Hank told him sternly, reaching down to pat his head as he pulled on the waistband of his jeans.

‘Looks like I’ve lost weight boy, Connor’s healthy crap finally worked its magic…whatcha think? Shall we try on the old pair?’ He asked, rubbing Sumo’s ears, scratching along his neck.

Digging through the drawers in his wardrobe, he found the clothes from way back when. Before he’d begun the heavy drinking and slow death through junk food. He’d always meant to throw them out when his waistline got thicker but he’d never gotten around to it.

Feeling foolish, he tore off his old jeans, holding the other pair in his hand, assessing.

‘Just as well Connor ain’t home,’ he told Sumo, ‘he’d think I was having a midlife crisis or something.’

Peering around the room as if Connor was suddenly going to appear, or someone might be peeking through the blinds or something, Hank quickly shimmied the jeans on, sucking his gut in as he did them up, surprised he didn’t need to hold it.

‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ he chuckled.

A white t-shirt and navy-blue shirt followed quickly, and he turned on the spot, looking down at himself.

‘Whatcha think? Not half bad huh?’

Sumo yawned and trotted out of the room.

‘Charming,’ Hank shouted after him, going back into the bathroom. He was never going to be slim, never had been, he’d always been tall, muscular, and now…he looked like his old self, muscular instead of flabby, a clean-cut respectable cop instead of one down on his luck. He knew he was being vain, but it felt like he’d shed off some of the mental weight he’d been carrying around, that he’d transformed back into the better version of himself.

The Hank Anderson he used to be.

***

Whistling, he nodded at Ben as he came into work, saluting Chris with his takeaway coffee cup before taking off his jacket. He’d pulled out his lighter leather jacket for the warmer weather, knowing it looked good on him.

‘Got a hot date tonight?’ Ben asked, turning around in his chair to give Hank the once over.

‘Gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell,’ Hank laughed, turning in his own chair to face the other detective.

‘Well, you might not…Connor? Care to share some light on Hank’s mysterious beau?’

Hank looked over his shoulder as he drank from his coffee, raising an eyebrow at the way Connor stood there, staring.

‘Something on my face?’ he asked.

‘Extrapolating from available information, Detective Collins, I would answer there’s an eighty-four percent chance that the romantic partner in question is named Jessica.’

Hank spluttered his coffee, twisting around to stare at Connor, confused not only by his answer but by the way he reverted to his monotone self.

‘What the fuck are you talking about?’

Connor indicated his Styrofoam coffee cup with his hand, LED yellow.

Frowning, Hank turned it in his hand, his stomach lurching when he saw the name Jessica and what was obviously her number scrawled along the side of it.

‘Shit, I mean, I didn’t notice-’

‘Enjoy your coffee, Lieutenant,’ Connor interrupted, nodding at Ben before he made his escape.

Why was he back to Lieutenant?

‘So, the girl at the coffee shop? She hot?’ Ben asked, waggling his eyebrows.

‘What? I dunno, I wasn’t paying any attention, I’ll catch you later.’ Slamming the offending cup down, Hank clambered to his feet, trying to catch up with Connor. He found him waiting for the elevator, coin dancing across his knuckles before being flicked into the air.

Oh shit. That was bad.

‘Connor?’ he called, cursing under his breath as Fowler left the elevator, drawing Connor into a conversation.

There was nothing he could do but duck into the breakroom as Fowler led Connor into his office. Buying a snack from the vending machine, he left it on Tina’s desk as he returned to his own, dumping the coffee into the trash bin as he turned on his terminal ready to work.

He couldn’t even remember the damn woman who’d served him the coffee, and he hated that it’d obviously affected Connor. Unless he’d misread the situation and Connor had been trying to joke with him. Why the coin then? Connor only did that when he was nervous or overthinking.

‘Fucking damn it,’ he grumbled under his breath, pulling out his phone. 

**I didn’t know she’d written her number on my cup. I couldn’t even tell you what she looked like, I wasn’t paying attention.**

He hoped Connor could sense his sincerity through his written words.

Nothing came back. He knew Connor could do multiple things at once, could hold conversations while answering messages. He doubted whatever Fowler was talking to Connor about was enough to distract him from a direct message from Hank.

Turning in his seat, he glared at Connor’s back as panic needled at him. He should’ve just worn his normal baggy shit, shouldn’t have tried to be something he wasn’t. This was the person he was years ago when he was a rookie rising star, not the washed-up recovering alcoholic he was now.

Connor got to his feet, Fowler a few seconds behind him as they left his office.

‘Everyone! Can I have your attention?’ Fowler shouted over the bustle. Everyone turned to look, even the perp in the holding cell. ‘I have some news that has been a long time coming. Connor has, as of today, been instated as our newest DPD detective.’

Hank was the first on his feet clapping, Chris and Ben right behind him before the entire floor was clapping and whooping. There was a muttered _fuck_ from Reed’s desk, but it was drowned out by all of Connor’s support.

Connor looked overwhelmed at the noise, defaulting to that goofy smile of his as he looked around the officers clapping. Eventually, his gaze fell on Hank and his smile relaxed into something genuine.

‘Connor, it’s my great honour to welcome you officially to the DPD. Keep up your hard work.’

‘Thank you, Captain Fowler, I won’t let you down.’ He accepted his badge with reverence, staring at it for a moment before looking back up at what else Fowler was holding out for him. It was a nameplate for his desk with Det. Connor embossed on it and Hank couldn’t tell which Connor was happier with, the badge, or a stupid nameplate.

‘Your desk is the one beside Hank’s, hope you can put up with him,’ Fowler looking over at Hank and smirking.

‘I’ve managed so far. I’ve learnt how to manage his eccentricities.’

‘Hey! I…what!’

Good-natured laughing followed Hank’s outburst and he felt included in the moment, as if he belonged, and he realised it’d been a long time since he’d felt a part of the DPD. A team player again.

The crowd dispersed as Connor came down the steps, clasping his new badge and nameplate to his chest like they were something valuable. Hank could understand, he remembered when he’d first got his badge, when he’d got his first case, taken down his first criminal.

‘Howdy neighbour,’ he greeted when Connor sat, placing his nameplate down and fiddling with it for a little while, getting the optimum angle or something.

‘Did you know?’ Connor gestured to his badge, wondering where he should wear it. He held it up in the middle of his chest, where it would sit if he wore it on a lanyard, then over one side of his hip and then the other, before attaching it to the right hand side of his hip.

If Hank didn’t know better, he’d swear Connor was puffing out his chest in pride.

‘Yeah, I knew. Me and Fowler spoke about it a while back. I was wondering what was taking so long/’

‘I’m programmed with nearly every language known to humankind, I have an extensive vocabulary and yet…I can’t find words to express how much this means to me.’

‘You deserve it Con, I’m proud of you,’ Hank nudged his leg under the desk.

Connor glanced up at him from under his lashes, a small smile on his lips and fuck if that didn’t make Hank want to leap over the desk and pin him to it.

‘Everything alright?’

‘Huh? Oh yeah, sorry, got distracted.’ Settling back in his chair, Hank opened his case files, ready to chase a warrant on a case he needed. His phone vibrating in his pocket made him pause, glancing over at Connor before looking at it.

**I was attempting to joke earlier with my statement about there being an eighty-four percent chance of your romantic partner being the female who wrote her number on your cup.**

His thumb flew across the screen as he typed.

**Cut the crap.**

Connor startled, looking away from his terminal to stare at him.

‘You hightailed it away from me and I saw you, you were messing about with your coin. There isn’t anyone else,’ he hissed under his breath, low enough that only Connor could hear.

Connor turned back to his terminal, interfacing with it before giving up with a sigh and turning back to face Hank.

‘Alright, yes, I was jealous.’ The words were dragged from him kicking and screaming as he refused to meet Hank’s gaze. ‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ he declared, leaping to his feet and leaving Hank to call after him.

When he didn’t come back, Hank shut his terminal down, ready to hightail it after him when Connor came back, a coffee in hand.

‘Here, I got you a new one.’

‘Thanks? Connor listen-’

‘I’ve always found you attractive Hank, captivating, formidable for lack of better words. I knew others would find this to be the case too. But still I-’

‘You wanna go on a date?’ Hank asked, taking the coffee from Connor’s hand.

‘A date?’ Connor spluttered, whatever speech he’d thought of destroyed by that one question.

‘Hmm yup, you’ve still got access to my calendar, right? Pick a day, any day and I’ll think of the activity.’

Sitting back down, Connor stared after Hank in bewilderment, mouth agape.

‘I mean you don’t hafta-’

‘Thursday!’ Connor shouted, drawing attention from the other officers around them. ‘I mean, we’re both free a week Thursday. Does that work?’

‘Sounds perfect,’ Hank smiled, taking a sip of his coffee.

***

Of course their date ended up being a month later than planned. Conflicts in schedules, homicides, investigations, they all threw huge spanners in Hank’s social life, but thankfully Connor was nothing but understanding considering he too suffered from the same problems.

Eventually, their stars had aligned or other such shit and here they were.

And Hank was hating it.

He’d prepared himself for it, knew the memories would surface, but he still felt the sharp stab as he retraced the familiar steps, heard the squeals as children rushed past. The churro stand was still in the exact same place, the fried dough infusing the air with a saccharine sweetness that he could taste on his tongue.

_I can’t do this._

‘Hank? Are you alright?’

‘Yeah…I’m just gonna…can we go somewhere else?’

Connor took his elbow and led him away from the outside exhibits, down past the gaggles of kids and their families, the teenagers on their dates, and down the stairs. Hank didn’t even look where Connor was taking him, trusting him to lead until he was being pushed to sit and brown eyes were looking intently into his.

‘Better now?’

‘Yeah. Sorry, I know I said-’

‘Don’t apologise,’ Connor cut him off, ‘I should know better than to listen to you,’ he sighed, sitting next to Hank on the steps.

‘I just wanted to do something fucking nice for you, so be grateful,’ Hank groused, shoving his hands beneath his armpits. When the steel band across his ribs loosened, he looked around. Connor had led him into an underwater viewing gallery of some sort, with huge glass panels from ceiling to floor so they could see the fish swimming overhead, it was pretty serene actually.

‘I don’t want you to do things for me if it causes you pain. I don’t care what we do, it’s the act of spending time with you that I enjoy,’ Connor muttered, watching the fish swimming lazily overhead.

Wavy lights of azure flittered over Connor’s face, tinging his hair blue. He looked otherworldly, a fae being rather than the android who spent his days hunting down bad guys.

His therapist had said something along the lines of his past could only hurt him as much as he allowed it to, but it felt like the phantom of Cole’s memories trailed after him, echoing in the sound of other children’s laughter/ The wind bringing fragments of his voice begging him to see the penguins. He hoped that he might have been able to remember only the happiness he’d had here with him, but it was still tinged with sadness.

Why couldn’t he do this for Connor?

There must’ve been a reason why he asked Hank to go to the aquarium all those months ago and Hank was messing it up with his issues.

It was slow going, but Connor was taking active steps towards recovery, showing more and more glimpses of the sassy android he knew and loved. He’d caught sight of him in his bedroom a few times, door ajar, carved from marble as he sat on his bed, LED flickering between yellow and red as he spoke to his equivalent of a therapist.

Hank knew Connor had also begun experimenting with turning his upgrade back on for short snatches of time. Hank had watched him late at night, the way he glanced painstakingly around, staring at Hank for a long moment before his eyes went unfocused in a scan, and finally, finally stroking Sumo.

He was beginning to feel safe again.

In a way, he’d wanted to commemorate that, which is why he’d asked Connor to the aquarium, but all he was doing was making things worse, souring whatever it was they had with his past.

‘Do you remember when I told you about my very first mission? My first experience with a deviant, saving Emma?’ Connor asked, reaching across to wriggle his hand between the tight space of Hank’s folded arms.

Hank remembered how Connor’s eyes had gone wide, the way he’d stared into the middle distance before answering his question about his experience with deviants. Even back then, while still not trusting Connor, he’d seen something human in the way he’d hesitated. Which in turn lead him to remember the entire conversation from that night outside the Chicken Feed, the way he’d genuinely been confused about why Hank hadn’t wanted him running across the highway.

Fucking CyberLife.

‘When I first entered the Phillips apartment, I noticed there was a fish…a dwarf gourami out of its tank on the floor. I don't know why, it served no purpose, nor did it help with my mission in any way, but I rescued it. I think maybe I had deviance tendencies from even then.'

Hank felt an odd surge of pride at that. That even as CyberLife’s most advanced machine to combat deviancy, Connor’s soul had still found a way to seep through.

'You mentioned, weeks ago, that one of the things I liked was animals, so I wanted to see them in their natural, or as natural as can be, habitat. I guess this doesn’t make sense, it’s not as if the fish turned me into a deviant.’

‘No, but it shows you always had empathy, that you care about living creatures.’

Connor’s lips turned up a little in a smile, sliding his hand down the length of Hank’s arm, holding his hand.

‘Finding out who you are, it’s a difficult task.’

‘I don’t even think most humans know who they are, Connor.’

‘You’re shaped by experiences, life lessons, growth, things I didn’t experience.’

‘Bullshit,’ Hank tugged on his hand. ‘You’ve made decisions, had experiences. You may not have had a childhood or many years on you, but you’ve grown in the ways that count.’ He went quiet, watching the way the water rippled on the walls beside them.

‘Connor…there’s been something I’ve been wondering about for a while…you know I’d…’ Christ it was hard to say. ‘You know I’d support you going to the Sanctuary, right?’

Connor stopped breathing, going scarily still.

‘Is this…am I being asked to leave again?’

‘No! No Connor, I meant it when I said my home is yours…I just wanted you to know I support you in your decisions, and that maybe going to the Sanctuary for a few years might ya know, help in some way.’

Connor’s hand slid from his as he brought his arms up to fold over his drawn-up knees, resting his chin on them to watch the fish swimming.

‘This isn’t…are you trying to make decisions for me again?’ He tried to keep his voice level, but Hank could hear the anger threatening to flare up beneath the surface.

‘No! Damn it, listen to the actual words I’m saying rather than looking for meaning behind them. It’s because I…because I care that I want what’s best for you. ‘m not saying you can’t make that decision on your own, I’m trying to say that if you’re avoiding making choices because you’re worried how it might affect me, then don’t.’

Connor’s LED stayed yellow even as his gaze followed the fish round, hugging himself, holding himself together.

‘Shit look…’ Hank rummaged in his pocket. ‘There was another reason I brought you here today, asides for trying to make up for things.’

‘You mean, this isn’t a date?’ Connor tried to joke.

‘No…I mean yes, that too, shut up a minute and let me finish!’ Hank sighed, handing over the crumpled piece of paper, ruined by creases where it’d been folded and refolded over and over.

Stretching his hand out, Connor took it, holding it up to the light as he scanned it. Eventually, he decided to unfold it, frowning in confusion.

‘Androids…they can’t own property, well not yet anyway, and who knows when the government will pull their heads out of their asses and fix the laws. Point is,’ Hank leant over and tapped the paper. ‘These are the deeds to my house, look here.’ He ran his finger under where he’d scribbled Connor’s name and serial number. ‘I know officially, that doesn’t mean shit, that it ain’t gonna hold up at a court of law, so that’s why I got some witnesses to sign it. Humans and androids that have sworn to me to help you keep it as a place to live should anything happen to me…or if I ever you know…act like a dick again.’

He watched as Connor’s eyes scanned the signatures, his fingers tightening on the document, crinkling it further. Jeffrey, Chris, Tina, Ben, they’d all signed it but more than that, he’d asked Markus and Josh to add their names and serial numbers too, their own sort of signature. Hank had tried to cover all his bases, to at least try and begin the fight on Connor’s behalf.

‘Hank…’ Connor’s voice glitched and he shut his mouth abruptly.

‘It’s your home too. Regardless of whatever happens to us, if we go back to being roommates, whatever happens to me, it’s your home too, Connor. I just wanted to give you one less thing to worry about.’ He scratched the underside of his jaw, realising he needed to trim it again.

God, upkeep was a bitch.

His hand was snatched away from scratching. Smiling, Hank brought it close to his mouth, kissing Connor’s knuckles, grinning as brown eyes widened and then darkened. Shifting closer, Connor’s legs bumped against his own as he lifted his free hand to stroke it through Hank’s hair.

Hank wasn’t usually one for PDA’s, in fact, he hated them. He didn’t care what people thought of him, his shirts attested to that, but he didn’t like people witnessing his private moments. Not that he’d had many of those in the past few years. This was the first time in weeks Connor had initiated contact and Hank wasn’t going to stop him, regardless of where they were and who could see.

He held himself still as he was petted, letting Connor take his tentative steps towards feeling again.

‘That day, when I first got the upgrade, would you have let me kiss you?’ Connor whispered, a finger trailing down Hank’s temples, into his beard and across his jaw.

He’d been scanning the periphery for any potential threats, determined to never let Connor be hurt again on his watch, so the words caught him off guard. He took a moment to think back to when Connor had jumped on him in the hallway, the way they’d gotten close to kissing before Sumo had stopped them.

‘I was praying with every fibre of my body that you were going to,’ Hank smiled, ‘stupid dog.’

‘I thought I had imagined it,’ Connor muttered, moving closer. His lips were delicate on Hank’s and he met the kiss with an infinitesimal amount of pressure, unwilling to do anything Connor didn’t want. The hand in his hair began to shake and Hank broke the kiss, words of reassurance bubbling before they were burst by Connor taking his bottom lip between his own, running his rough-textured tongue over it.

‘I’d forgotten how amazing this feels with you,’ Connor declared fervently, trying to get closer.

‘Con…sweetheart, stop.’ He softened the sting of a perceived rejection with a kiss to Connor’s cheekbone. ‘Trust me, I want nothing more, but not here,’ he indicated the room with a toss of his head.

‘Sorry,’ Connor muttered sheepishly, sliding back along the bench, keeping his hand in Hank’s.

‘Trust me, baby,’ Hank yanked him back, bending to whisper in his ear. ‘I’ve been waiting for the day where I can make you drown in nothing but pleasure, but let’s not do it in a family setting, hmm?’ He licked over the shell of Connor’s ear, gritting his teeth as Connor let out a surprised moan before slapping his hand over his mouth.

Hank laughed as he turned back to watch the fish.

The aquarium might not have been so bad after all.

**TBC**

Come chat to me over on[ Twitter](https://twitter.com/kiki_rambles)


	6. Chapter 6

** Chapter 6  **

‘Connor!’

Looking up from where he’d been bent over Hank’s desk helping him finish a report, Connor stiffened as Tina and Chris rushed over with beaming smiles.

‘I know we’ve already said it, but congratulations on becoming an official detective,’ Chris gushed as he sat on Connor’s desk.

‘Yeah, sorry we’ve been so useless and that it’s taken so long to get the recognition you deserve,’ Tina chipped in, her _we’ve_ implying the uselessness of humanity.

‘You have, as you’ve already stated, offered your congratulations, but… thank you for your support guys,’ he added in a more conversational tone.

‘We wanted to ask if you wanted to go out to a bar tonight to celebrate? Some of the other officers were asking.’

‘Celebrate? With me?’ Connor looked genuinely confused and Hank was torn between thinking it was the cutest expression ever, and sadness that Connor still didn’t see himself as part of the team.

‘Yes!’ Burst out from him, his new beaming smile on his face as he looked between the two of them.

‘Great. Hank do you want to come?’ Chris continued.

Hank tensed. He wanted to go, to celebrate with Connor as both work colleagues and as…well…whatever they were. The temptation though. Would he be able to sit in a bar and not drink? Would he slide back into old habits? There were going to be times in his life where he needed to be around alcohol. He could do it this once.

‘Guys…I…’ he floundered.

‘Lieutenant Anderson is busy tonight, maybe we could reschedule for another time?’ Connor asked. He’d always been an awful liar to Hank, his tells way too obvious, but Hank couldn’t see any of them now.

‘No!’ he barked out, holding out his hand. ‘You guys go ahead. Don’t cancel on my account,’ he directed at Connor.

‘…Are you sure?’ Connor said.

‘Yeah, honestly, you guys go ahead. Thanks for the invite though, maybe next time?’ He wanted to get up and leave, to hide his head in the sand, but he forced himself to keep working, letting the chatter of the other three ebb over his head.

His phone shook across the desk.

**I don’t mind rescheduling or moving it to a different location.**

Hank leaned back in his chair, holding his phone to his face.

**Honestly Con, you should go. It’s good for you to mix with others in the department. I wish I could go, and I know it’s weak, but I just can’t be around alcohol.**

His arm went limp, cradling his phone in his lap as he exhaled heavily.

**Don’t feel bad because you can’t come, I’m proud that you said no, that you’re putting your health first above temptation.**

He felt like he wanted to cry, the small recognition Connor gave him was a balm on a raw wound. Hank looked up as Tina and Chris left to go ask the others, murmuring goodbye as they went.

‘Hey, listen,’ Hank began as Connor put his jacket on, his excitement palpable. ‘If you need a lift home or anything later, ring me, okay?’

‘Thank you, Hank. I’m going to leave early today, there are things I need to take care of before tonight.’ He leant back down on the pretence of checking Hank’s work, his mouth close to Hank’s ear. ‘I’ll miss you.’

‘You’ll only be gone a few hours. I think you’ll manage. Go on, get.’

‘Love you,’ Connor whispered, daring to kiss Hank’s earlobe quickly.

‘Connor,’ he ground out, trying to ignore the way his cock stirred. 

‘Your heart rate is increasing. That have anything to do with me?’ Connor continued, a definite purr in his words.

Hank shoved him, scowling at Connor’s laugh.

‘Fucking android,’ he swore, loud enough for everyone to hear.

His phone buzzed again and when Hank looked up at him, Connor winked before turning on his heel.

**I hope so. One day.**

‘Goddammit, Connor! You prick!’ he hollered, hearing his partner laugh down the corridor at him.

***

Hank groaned as he sat at the kitchen table, drying his hair absentmindedly as he listened to the sounds of the game. The results of the gym were good but putting in the work was hard.

_If you can make only one change, make it exercise, even if you don’t want to. Keep your body active and your mind will follow._

His therapist was right, exercise did help. Muscle ache was still a pain in the ass though. Checking his phone to make sure Connor hadn’t messaged him or anything, Hank contemplated having an early night when Sumo woke up with a snort, ears cocked forward.

‘What’s up?’ Hank asked, stroking down his back.

Letting out a quiet woof, Sumo got to his feet and stretched in a play bow, tongue curling in his open jaws before he trotted to the front door.

‘He’s not gonna be home for-’ he stopped talking when Connor walked through the front door. ‘Hey, you’re back earlier than I thought. Everything…oh Connor you’re soaked!’

‘Everything’s fine, thank you, I had a good time,’ Connor answered, his hair plastered to his head. Hanging up his sodden jacket, he got down on his knees to hug Sumo.

Picking up his towel, Hank padded down to meet him, gesturing for Connor to come closer and dumping the towel on his head. He chuckled as Hank began to rub viciously, water from his clothes dripping onto the floor.

‘You should’ve called, I told you to call me if you needed a lift home.’

‘I know. I wanted to walk, wanted to think,’ Connor answered cryptically, his hands coming up to catch Hank’s wrists and moving the towel back so he could see.

‘Everything alright? I thought you had a nice time.’

‘I did, Detective Collins is surprisingly easy to talk to.’

‘What the…Ben went? Christ, was I the only one who didn’t come?’

‘Detective Reed wasn’t there, and a few of the officers on the night shift.’

Which was Connor speak for yes.

‘Jesus, Connor I’m sorry-’

‘Don’t be.’ His thumbnails trailed over Hank’s pulse points, his eyes sparkling in the muted light from the kitchen behind them. That errant lock of hair was fanned over his forehead, individual strands sticking to his skin. ‘Let me go get changed?’ he asked.

‘Sure thing. Stop tracking water all over the damn floors.’

‘Back in a second.’ Connor didn’t move, the air between them crackling. Hank’s skin erupted in goosebumps from where thumbnails still traced his skin. Abruptly, Connor let go and stepped back, smiling as Hank automatically swayed after him.

Shaking himself, Hank watched him go, knowing he was pining. Switching the light from the kitchen off, he moved into the living room, turning the game off and the floor lamp on, only now hearing the torrent of rain Connor walked home in. He heard the rustling of a bag first, smiling as Sumo began to dance on his paws in excitement.

‘I brought Sumo something,’ Connor told him when he came back, holding the bag aloft so Hank could see.

Brought him something? Hank felt confused for a second before he realised. The badge and nameplate, Fowler must’ve been able to sort out Connor’s wage. This was the first time he’d been able to buy things for himself without using Hank’s money, and he’d brought Sumo something.

Every time he thought he couldn’t love Connor more, he went and proved him wrong.

It was a squeaky toy, which would no doubt get on Hank’s nerves after about ten seconds, but Sumo loved it, barking and jumping up, nails scratching on the floor as he tried to persuade Connor to throw it.

Rolling the ball across the floor, Connor laughed as Sumo lunged after it, grabbing it and gnawing on it, the air whooshing in and out in an irritating wheeze.

‘If that wakes me up in the morning-’

‘I’ll hide it before we go to bed,’ Connor cut him off, settling on the armchair with a package. ‘I knew you’d find it annoying, but he always seems so excited by them when I take him on his walks. He watches other dogs with them.’

‘Aww, you didn’t want Sumo feeling left out?’ Hank asked.

‘I wanted to do something nice for him.’

Hank took a minute to soak the image in. Connor wearing only a black t-shirt and boxers, the closest to slobbing out he could get and he still looked like an underwear model or something, even with Hank’s shitty house as a backdrop.

He needed to get his mind out of the gutter.

‘There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, Hank.’

That distracted him enough from all the creamy skin he was eyeing up.

What had he done now?

‘This have something to do with you wandering around in the rain?’ he asked, keeping his gaze above Connor’s chin.

‘I didn’t only buy Sumo a gift.’ Leaning forward, he placed the package on the armrest of Hank’s couch before sitting back on his knees. ‘It took me a long time to think about what you might like, and I’ve never given gifts before. If I’ve overstepped a boundary, or you don’t like it, then please-’

‘Hey, hey easy,’ Hank patted the gift with a smile. ‘Whatever it is I’m sure I’ll love it. But you know you didn’t have to buy me anything.’

‘I know. I just…wanted to. This is the first time I’ve had currency of my own, and I’ve always wanted to buy you and Sumo something. I brought a round of drinks earlier for the guys.’

Hank felt that squeeze in his heart again, Connor acting adorable beyond what words could express, excited because _he’d_ been able to buy a bunch of his co-workers a drink.

‘Is the thing you wanted to talk to me about a negotiation for rent?’ Hank asked, picking the package up and placing it on his lap.

‘You’ve supported me financially for months, brought clothes-’

‘Well I kinda had an ulterior motive there, sweetheart, your ass looks too damn good in tight jeans.’

‘My _point_ is,’ Connor squeaked, looking frazzled, ‘that we always agreed that when things settled, and I earnt my own wage that we would talk about it.’

‘And we will, but maybe not after you’ve just earnt your first paycheck.’ Peeling back the brown paper, he smiled a huge toothy grin at the books waiting for him. ‘Oh Connor…’

‘Are they…are these not acceptable?’

‘No, they’re beautiful thank you. God, these must’ve been hard to come by.’ Hank lifted one of the hardback books to his face, breathing in the lingering vanilla scent of lignin.

‘My initial thoughts when Captain Fowler informed me I was going to receive a monthly wage was that I would give it all to you.’

‘Let’s not do this now, Con-’

‘Please, let me finish. As I said, I thought I wouldn’t have any need for currency. As long as I have access to Thirium, I can function for years. I don’t need anything. However, I enjoyed buying something for you and Sumo, and I want to help with the rent to provide a home for you both… but, I still want to explore what it means to be me, and I like that I can do that without having to being indebted to you.’

‘Connor…you know I’d never stop you doing anything,’ Hank said with affection, turning the books over in his hands, treating them with the utmost care, knowing how much these must have cost him.

Placing the books down, Hank took a moment to sit back and think about what Connor was telling him. In all honesty, he didn’t want to take Connor’s money, didn’t really need it either, but he liked the fact that Connor had thought about it and decided what he wanted.

‘How about this? You keep your first paycheck…nut uh,’ he complained when Connor went to object, ‘that’s a rite of passage, everyone gets to blow their first month’s pay on random shit. Next month we’ll sit down and work out how much you can pay towards rent and utilities while making sure you still have enough to pursue your own hobbies. Sound fair?’

‘I have one more condition.’

‘Oh, you do, do you?’ Hank huffed a laugh, running a finger across the spine of one of his new books.

‘I want to hire a dog walker for Sumo. It isn’t fair that we both work long hours, and he doesn’t get the required exercise he needs.’

Sensing they were talking about him or hearing his name, Sumo gave an enthusiastic crunch of his new toy.

The squeak set Hank’s teeth on edge.

‘Alright, you drive a hard bargain. We’ll work it out. Thank you for these, I love them.’

‘You’re very welcome. That…makes me really happy.’ Connor smiled, one of the rare ones that showed the slightest hint of teeth.

It was the perfect atmosphere to snuggle down and read. It was cold and wet out, cosy indoors, he had nowhere to be, and they were both already dressed for bed. Patting the couch next to him, Hank beckoned him over.

‘You wanna come read one with me? If I heat up some Thirium it’d almost be like having a hot chocolate, can you heat up Thirium?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t think so,’ Connor answered, perplexed.

‘Damn that’s a shame,’ Hank rotated his shoulder. ‘It’s the perfect night for it, rain hammering on the windows, hot chocolate and a real book… fucking heaven.’

‘What’s wrong with your shoulder?’ Connor’s feet slapped on the floor as he got up.

‘Huh? Oh, think I’ve pulled the muscle, overdid it at the gym.’ He had to tilt his head back to look up at Connor standing in front of him or he risked staring at his groin.

‘Are you okay?’ Connor asked again, hands coming up to hover over Hank’s shoulder, eyes soft with concern. Hank could see where his gaze was drawn to.

The wound from Zlatko’s gunshot, hidden under his t-shirt.

‘It’s not that, I promise. It just twinges a little. I’ll take some pain killers before bed, no big deal.’

‘Can I help?’ Connor brought one knee up onto the couch, nudging against Hank’s thigh.

‘Honestly, Con, it’ll be alright in a few days…’ his voice strangled in his throat, like someone was stepping on it. Connor straddled his lap, fingers on the cold side of cool seeping through Hank’s T-shirt.

‘Do you not want me to touch you?’ Connor questioned, lifting one hand to stroke the shoulder in question.

He wanted nothing more than for Connor to touch him.

‘I have knowledge of human anatomy, your muscle structure. I can help alleviate your suffering.’

Ah. Connor only wanted to help him with his pain. Willing any sexual reaction down, Hank continued to stare at the android in his lap.

‘Please, Hank. I don’t like seeing you in pain, let me help you,’ Connor argued, tightening his thighs unconsciously on the outside of Hank’s.

Damn those beautiful puppy dog eyes.

‘Alright, sure, just be careful.’ 

Tilting his head to the side and down, he bared the affected area, closing his eyes so he couldn’t look at Connor. Hot chocolate and a good book. That’s what he wanted, maybe a sneaky hug with Connor. They hadn’t really done much of that, the touchy-feely stuff. 

He bit back a groan as Connor started kneading at his muscles, inching forward on his lap to get closer. It was torture, the sharp discomfort of Connor stretching out the knots in his shoulder, the way he could feel his ass across his thighs. He didn’t give off body heat like a human, but Hank could feel warmth where Connor sat, could smell him from his proximity.

Connor hadn’t showered so there wasn’t much to his scent, lingering ozone from the rain and cold air outside, an underlying metallic chlorine sort of smell that Hank had come to associate with Connor. He loved the smell of his body wash, used it himself so he was reminded of Connor while at work, but this was him at his most natural, his true self.

He could hear the rain hammering on the windows outside as Connor stretched his muscles. It felt like they were secluded, suspended in their own little intimate bubble with nothing to worry about. A shiver wracked his body as the massage began to feel good, Connor stroking one hand over the opposite side of his neck in what felt like a caress, but it probably had something to do with pressure points.

‘That feel good?’ Connor asked in his ear, ramming his thumb down on a particularly hard knot under Hank’s skin.

‘Mmm,’ he agreed, moaning low in his throat as he felt it give under Connor’s ministrations. Satisfied he’d got them all, Connor’s hands snuck down the back of Hank’s T-shirt, tickling over the skin. Without meaning to, he placed his forehead on Connor’s chest, feeling his Thirium pump beating.

‘I like making you feel good,’ Connor kissed the top of his head.

‘Connor,’ Hank warned, hands coming up to hold Connor’s hips still, preventing him from wriggling closer.

Fingers stroked the back of his neck, trailing up to massage his scalp before drifting around the back of his ears, long sweeping strokes that varied in strength.

He was putty in Connor’s hands.

‘ _Hank_ ,’ Connor rumbled low in his ear, Hank’s grip on him doing nothing to prevent him from edging closer, his ass now snug in the cradle of Hank’s hips. He couldn’t stop an erection now with Connor that close, his fingers still manipulating his neck.

‘Sweetheart,’ he begged…reprimanded, he wasn’t sure which. ‘I…not this close, I can’t…’

Connor encouraged his head back with a firm hand, his mouth hovering a few centimetres above his own as he rolled his hips into Hank.

‘No more waiting,’ Connor demanded, crushing their lips together.

The kiss was frantic, desperate, Connor whining as he tried to get closer, ass grinding down against Hank. 

‘Are you sure?’ Hank broke away, fingers stroking across the silky skin of Connor’s inner thighs. He needed to know Connor was ready, wouldn’t do anything if he thought Connor was rushing.

‘I want _you_ , Hank.’ Connor’s begging scattered his thoughts, the squirming android on his lap trying to steal another kiss from him. ‘Please,’ he asked, crumbling Hank’s resolve.

‘I need to hear your words, baby,’ Hank encouraged, one hand sliding up to cup that perky ass, the other supporting the back of Connor’s neck. He’d been waiting for this day. Hank would erode any memory of pain from his body, show Connor how overwhelming pleasure could be. His thumbnail scraped over the port on Connor’s neck, watching closely for his reaction, for any sign he was uncertain.

Connor threw his head back on a wanton gasp, arching his hips up into Hank’s stomach. He stretched up, running his tongue over the hollow of Connor’s throat, lapping at it.

‘Ha…Hank!’ Connor gasped, holding Hank’s head captive in a bruising grip.

‘Tell me,’ he whispered against Connor’s skin, saturating it with his desire.

‘I want you, all of you, everything,’ Connor pleaded.

Stopping his exploration of Connor’s throat, he lifted the hem of his t-shirt, dragging it up and over his shoulders, waiting for Connor to realise what he was trying to do so he could rip it off. When he settled back on Hank’s lap, his hand resumed its position on the back of Connor’s neck, the other now squeezing at his waist, feeling the give and flex of skin.

Hank hadn’t taken the time to appreciate Connor’s body the first time they’d been intimate, the experience a rushed explosion of pent up longing and fear.

He intended to take his time now.

Connor was warm, his internal temperature beginning to rise and spread over his synthetic skin, but it didn’t give quite like human skin. Hank tightened his grip, feeling something like hard muscle beneath, maybe a ridge of bone, designed to fool a human, but Hank knew better. It didn’t detract from his desire for the android writhing on his lap.

Letting go of his waist, Hank drew the tip of his index finger over the skin between Connor’s hips, over the faintest whisp of hair there. Hank let out a pleased noise at the way his body flexed in response, his thighs tightening over Hank’s. Stroking his fingers up Connor’s stomach, he circled over the indent of his Thirium pump.

Shuddering, Connor pitched forward, hiding his face in Hank’s neck. Hank leant forward to place a kiss over the dimpled ring, tracing it with his tongue, involuntarily bucking his hips as Connor whined.

Having Connor held aloft over him like this, his muscles tightly strung as he chased pleasure by Hank’s touch in a relentless, single-minded pursuit, was a potent aphrodisiac.

He couldn’t remember a time he ever wanted anyone more.

Without stopping, Hank reached up and kneaded the skin at the back of Connor’s neck, experimenting with varying pressure over his port, exhaling heavily against Connor’s sternum as he continued rolling his ass down into Hank’s cock in desperation. 

He tensed as the neck panel gave way, leaving a small opening about the width of two of his fingers.

‘Con?’ Hank questioned, tracing the outline of it, his hips starting a lazy thrust against Connor’s ass to try and elevate some of the tension he could feel building, screaming for release.

‘You can’t hurt me, _please_ , let me feel you.’

Connor let out a strangled yelp, hips snapping down with force as Hank stroked a finger inside. Holding him close with one hand on his face, Hank urged him up for a kiss with a thumb beneath his jaw, drinking Connor’s tantalizing sounds from him as his other finger tangled in his wires.

Connor was a panting mess, trying to push closer to Hank while simultaneously trying to push back against Hank’s fingers.

‘That feel good?’ Hank teased in a mockery of Connor’s earlier words, ignoring the agonizing ache in his cock as Connor writhed against it, overcome with sensations, thinking of nothing but what Hank was doing to him.

‘Please…Hank…please,’ he begged, brown eyes glimmering in the low light, his lips parted in a gasp.

He was powerless to Connor, the vast and boundless love he felt for him eradicated any other conscious thought. His single focus and drive was to make Connor come, to prove there was more in this life than just pain.

Connor’s reaction as he stroked across a wire was instantaneous, biting at Hank’s mouth, uncoordinated, no finesse, running on pure instinct and feeling.

‘Like that, huh, baby?’ Hank groaned as Connor shoved his tongue inside his mouth, resisting the urge to come as Connor whimpered, his hips incessant.

‘Yes…yes… _Hank_ …’ Connor babbled.

Thrusting his fingers in and out of the port on Connor’s neck, he rubbed the wires he could reach against each other, gently bending them in his fingers.

‘I love you,’ Connor gasped, teetering on the precipice and needing that final nudge.

‘You’re all mine, sweetheart,’ he rubbed his thumb over Connor’s lower lip. ‘Not gonna let you go for anyone.’ Sliding his thumb in and stroking it across Connor’s tongue, he made an embarrassing sound at the obvious delight on Connor’s face, his eyelids fluttering as he sucked on Hank’s thumb.

‘Christ, look at you,’ Hank breathed in wonder, unable to comprehend how the being on his lap wanted _him_. ‘You’re fucking gorgeous, Con.’ Offering his index finger, Connor swallowed it eagerly, eyes rolling back as Hank planted his feet on the floor to gain better leverage.

‘I love you too.’

Connor spasmed in his lap, crying out with Hank’s fingers in his mouth as his orgasm hit. Holding him steady, he freed his fingers from Connor’s mouth and neck, mumbling reassurance as he trembled through the aftershocks.

‘So…is it true what they say? That androids don’t have a refractory period?’ Hank asked, stroking up and down Connor’s spine with his palm.

‘Not like humans do, no,’ Connor muttered, the edge of his vowels warped by static.

‘Wanna move into the bedroom?’ Hank suggested, lifting Connor with him as he got up, supporting the back of his thighs.

Connor’s legs curled around his waist without thought, fingers locking behind his neck so he could kiss him, beginning to sway his ass across Hank’s cock.

‘Careful, or I’ll drop you,’ Hank warned.

‘No, you won’t. You won’t let me fall,’ Connor gave a panting laugh. ‘Fuck me. Please Hank. Here, in the bedroom, I don’t care, but hurry up.’ He attacked the side of Hank’s neck, sucking the skin and leaving a mark. ‘You taste so good,’ he moaned, tongue rasping up the sweat he found.

‘Impatient much?’ Hank slammed his bedroom door with a foot and dropped Connor on his bed.

The light from the streetlight outside was harsh, frigid, casting slashes of illumination across Connor’s skin and making it glow in the shadowy bedroom. Unlike the living room which had been bathed in an amber ambiance of a secure cocoon, this left them defenceless, their flaws on display.

‘For you? Always? I’ve been thinking about this for months.’ Connor bounced once on his back, propping himself up on his elbows, widening his legs in temptation.

‘So have I, so no rushing,’ Hank chided, ripping his t-shirt off.

Connor’s demeanour changed in an instant. Raising up onto his knees, he used them to walk across the mattress, eyes wide with horror.

‘What? Do you want me to put it back on?’ Hank took a step back, cringing as Connor’s hands shot out to hold him in place.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Connor answered, hesitant fingers touching the still healing gouge of the gun wound on his shoulder. ‘I _hate_ that he hurt you. Hate that you got hurt because of-’

‘No. None of that stop.’ He covered Connor’s hand with his own. ‘It’s fine, healing well, probably won’t even scar. I’m not going to apologise for going in there to save you. I’d do it again. Every single time.’

Connor cast his gaze down, hand spasming over the wound.

‘Don’t do this Con, not now, not with just the two of us. I’m okay, I promise.’ He brought him in for a quick hug against his stomach. ‘Tell me more about this _everything_ you want from me.’ Hank tried to discourage Connor from his guilt, to prevent his mind tumbling back to that night.

‘I want to pleasure you with my mouth. It’s been a fantasy of mine for what feels like the longest time, but I don’t know what to do,’ Connor said, uncertainty colouring his voice.

‘You can do what you want to me, just no teeth near my dick.’

‘I know that,’ Connor snorted, wriggling free of Hank’s hold.

‘You say that, but I know plenty of people who don’t.’ He winced as Connor’s nails dug into his hips.

‘I don’t want to hear about your previous partners,’ Connor hissed, shuffling closer on the bed, and peeling his boxers down.

‘Jealous?’ Hank groaned as Connor’s hand wrapped around his cock, experimentally gliding up in a slow stroke.

‘Very,’ Connor answered.

‘You know I only think about you right?’ Hank stroked a hand over Connor’s head.

‘I know. Still, I find myself worried that I’ll be…lacking in some way.’

‘Trust me, you’re doing amazing. I don’t think…oh shit,’ he gasped as Connor licked the very tip of his cock, his raspy sandpaper like tongue toeing the line deliciously between pleasure and pain.

‘No one has a tongue like mine,’ Connor said smugly, holding Hank’s gaze as he opened his mouth and took him into his mouth. He struggled to stay on his feet as Connor experimented with alternating slow, languorous licks over the length of him, and excruciatingly gentle sucks over the head.

‘Fucking Christ, Con,’ his hands came up to Connor’s head, needing the stability, threading through his hair. His inexperienced showed, but his enthusiasm, his obvious enjoyment of having Hank in his mouth had him at his limits pitifully fast. Connor’s tongue curled around the underside of his cock, the grooves on his tongue catching on the skin, and making Hank buck further into his mouth.

‘Sorry, baby, sorry,’ he soothed, hands petting over Connor’s face, his panting breaths hitching at the smouldering stare Connor fixed on him. Hands snaked over to Hank’s ass, gripping and shoving him forward, forcing him further into Connor’s throat. Startled, Hank held Connor’s shoulders, restricting his movement.

‘Don’t stop,’ Connor ordered.

‘I…don’t want to…’ Hank gasped, hips flexing as Connor caressed his cock with his tongue, coating it in his analysing fluid.

‘You won’t hurt me.’

‘You’ve never done this before, you don’t know-’

‘Hank,’ Connor cut across his objections. ‘Trust yourself, trust me.’

‘I want you to feel good, to only feel…fuck,’ he cried as Connor flicked his tongue over the head of his cock, massaging the slit in a wicked movement.

‘Do you know when I started fantasizing about your cock, Hank?’ Connor murmured, his lips forming the words against his cock.

Hank shook his head, body quivering as Connor encouraged him to move in shallow thrusts, his cock sliding across Connor’s face in a smooth, sensual glide as lips trailed over the side and then down to his balls.

‘After that night in the Eden club. I wondered what it would be like to be intimate with someone, and the only person, human or android I could imagine myself with was you.’

‘Connor…I’m gonna…’ Hank warned.

‘I think I have what you call an oral fixation. I think about your cock inside my mouth countless times during the day. I want to know what you taste like. I want to have you weighing down my tongue.’

It was the strangest dirty talk he’d ever heard.

But fuck it worked.

Curving over Connor’s body, he bit into his lip as he shouted, copper filling his mouth and his bones liquefying as Connor caught him, supporting his weight. It took him a while to stop shaking, his body hypersensitive and tingling. Connor held him the entire time, only bringing him down to the bed when Hank could breathe again, adjusting himself so they lay facing each other.

‘Jesus, Connor, you’re going to be the death of me…’ Hank managed to say when his heart stopped pounding in his chest, bringing Connor close and kissing his forehead. ‘Did you swallow-’

‘I love the way you taste,’ Connor murmured against his mouth like he was revealing a secret. His hand caressed the fine hair on his chest, weaving his fingers through it, committing him to memory.

‘What about you, do I get to see what you taste like?’

‘I thought-’

‘What? That I was done? I might be old, sweetheart, but my hearing ain’t failing yet.’ Rolling over he pinned Connor down, nudging his legs open to settle between them, staring down into confused eyes. ‘I distinctly remember hearing you wanted everything,’ Hank said, thrusting his hips down once.

Leaning down, Hank ran the tip of his tongue over the lobe of Connor’s ear, smirking as he heard hands fist in the bedcovers. ‘How many times can you come?’

‘I don’t…ah,’ his hips jumped as Hank tried to suck a mark into the skin behind his ear. ‘I don’t know…I’ve never experimented.’

‘Well now, that’s a crying shame ain’t it, honey?’ He took a moment to watch the effect his pet name had on Connor, the way he splayed himself out against Hank’s covers, his ribcage dipping with laboured breaths.

He ran his nose over Connor’s throat, considering. He wanted to dismantle Connor’s self-control piece by piece now that his own bodily reactions weren’t fogging his mind, to know what other parts of his body were sensitive. There was no reaction when Hank ran the flat off his tongue over his nipples, which was a shame, but he swore and whimpered when Hank bit the skin over his Thirium pump, the skin mottling white for a few seconds.

Moving away, he grinned at Connor’s frustrated grumble, running his hands over pronounced hipbones, peeling his boxers away, taking his first proper look at Connor’s cock. He’d seen glimpses of it during their tryst at the DPD, but not up close and personal. It was long and slender, easily fitting into Hank’s fist so just the tip peeked out.

‘ _Hank_!’

‘Fuck, even your cock is pretty, baby,’ Hank praised, letting go and watching it curve up towards Connor’s stomach, smearing the come there from his orgasm earlier. Maintaining eye contact, Hank leant down, lapping up the stains, his cock stirring as Connor rutted against him. He didn’t taste like a human, there was a salty tang which would be passable for come, but there was a sweetness to it, an addictive quality. Thirium. Made sense, it was one of the components of Red Ice, of course CyberLife would make android come addictive too.

Shoving away any thoughts of Cyberlife, Hank continued his exploration, disregarding the way Connor arched when Hank’s mouth drew close to his cock, instead mouthing over the skin of his hips.

‘Please…Hank.’

‘Hmm?’ he answered, getting up onto his knees and lifting Connor’s legs onto his shoulders. He grasped Connor’s ankle, his touch circling around the joint, watching as Connor’s head tossed back into the mattress, struggling to hold himself still.

‘Ticklish?’ he asked, running his teeth over the arch of his foot, becoming hard again as Connor’s hands ripped his bedcovers. ‘Ah, not ticklish,’ he realised, increasing the strength of his thumb rubbing.

‘Like my hands and mouth, the circuitry is intricate, to calibrate my balance.’

Sweeping his fingers down smooth hairless legs, he kneaded the skin behind Connor’s knees, dragging his nails gently over the back of his thighs, giving a lengthy exhale when he reached Connor’s ass. Sliding his hands under it, he squeezed to feel the give, indulging his urge to thrust his hips against it. They shared a long moan at the intimacy of it, urgency surging in them both.

Holding Connor’s hips aloft by a hand under each ass cheek, Hank ghosted kisses along the crease of Connor’s groin, breathing out a moan as he ran his tongue over Connor’s perineum, dipping down to taste him, strengthening his grip as Connor jerked.

‘Fuck!’ Connor shouted as Hank flattened his tongue over his hole, his body bowing beautifully in his hold, heels digging into Hank’s back. Adjusting his position on the bed so he could get more leverage, Hank darted his tongue into artificial muscles, moaning as Connor fell apart.

It was almost the same taste as his skin, but with a hint of that salty sweetness of Connor’s come. Connor wasn’t as soft, or as yielding as a human, but he was just as sweltering. The elasticity of his muscles had to be persuaded into relaxing by Hank’s tongue, but that was the fun of it.

Connor’s voice modulator gave out as Hank thrust his tongue deeper.

‘Hank, please…fuck,’ Connor struggled to get out, his head still thrown back, revealing the long line of his neck, static laden hisses escaping his mouth.

Connor might have been designed to infiltrate humans, been anatomically correct to imitate the pleasures of sex. This though, this thrashing being with his skin dappled white in places, his voice the furthest thing from human Hank could imagine. This was Connor at his most basic.

Hank loved it.

Placing him gently back on the bed, he laughed at Connor’s exasperated growl as he stretched over to his bedside table, fumbling around for the lube. ‘Up you come, sweetheart.’ Stretching his legs out in front of him, he encouraged Connor up with a pat.

Disorientated at the sudden change of pace, Connor reached for Hank. Reassuring him with a quick kiss to his jaw, he turned Connor and sat him in his lap, back to chest.

‘What…’ Connor gasped out, getting onto his knees as Hank stroked a hand down his spine.

‘Everything, Connor.’ Hank peppered kisses across his shoulder blades, scraping his teeth over his neck port just to see him squirm, his cock nudging Connor’s ass at the needy sound that escaped. Caressing the bumps of his spine, Hank watched Connor’s hips thrust up against nothing, lost in the myriad of sensation.

Yanking his legs apart forced Connor’s legs to spread, leaving him vulnerable to Hank’s touches.

‘You okay?’ Hank checked in, taking the mechanical noise vibrating in his throat to mean yes. Snapping open the lube bottle, he coated his fingers with more lube than he’d used on past lovers, dedicated to making sure Connor felt nothing but pleasure.

Connor’s body gave without resistance, no doubt having mastery over his body that a human didn’t. Still, Hank drew the process out, cajoling Connor’s body to relax from his attentions. Adding another finger and crooking them, he listened to Connor’s body, watching the way his muscles flexed.

He wasn’t sure if CyberLife would even think to give him one, it wasn’t as though android pleasure was their priority, but when Connor let out a low scream, his head bending back over to rest on Hank’s shoulder he knew he’d found it.

‘There we go, baby,’ he praised, unrelenting as he stroked over the nub of wires, or plating or whatever it was that substituted as Connor’s prostate. Hank didn’t care, didn’t want to know about the intricacies of the RK800 design. If he could make Connor come, that was all that mattered. Adding another finger, he nudged Connor’s head up with a flex of his shoulder.

A careful bite to the back of Connor’s neck was enough to tumble him into orgasm, his body sagging into Hank’s. His simulated breathing was all over the place, stopping completely at times. Manhandling him, Hank turned him around so they were face to face, holding him close as he came down from his high.

‘Please,’ Connor looked up, hair a mess, body patchy with white plastic and skin, pupils huge in his gorgeous eyes. ‘Please, I want you now… I need…’ his gaze drifted down as Hank poured lubricant on himself.

‘No more waiting,’ he promised, feeling the way Connor practically vibrated in his arms.

One arm rested around slim hips, the forearm of his other lining up with the length of Connor’s spine. He swore as Connor sat himself down, taking his cock to the hilt. No gradual easing, no breathing through the process, just a raw desperation to be as close as possible, as fast as possible.

Blowing his bangs out of his eyes and ignoring the sting of sweat trickling down into them, Hank watched Connor’s face, concerned when his head hung low between his shoulders.

‘Con? Baby, you okay?’ Brushing hair back from Connor’s forehead, he tried to look into his face, kissing his brow.

His heart seized as he felt tears land on his chest and he immediately tried to move Connor off him, held captive by superhuman strength as Connor refused.

‘I’m okay…I’m okay…it’s just a lot.’

‘That’s enough for now then. Come on, sweetheart.’ He tapped Connor’s hips in an indication that he wanted him off, but Connor wasn’t having it.

‘Not the feeling of you inside me, I mean…yes that feels like a lot too, but.’ He drew back, tears shimmering in his eyes, holding Hank’s head in his hands. ‘I meant my feelings for you. You’ve always taken up a lot of my mental processes, but right now, right here, I can’t think of anything but you. Your scent, your taste, my feelings,’ he tried to explain.

‘I get it. The way I feel about you, Connor. It scares me to death sometimes.’ Hank closed his eyes as Connor gradually lifted himself up and down.

‘Oh. I like that,’ was all he said as he did it again with more force, mouth quirking in a smirk as Hank swore around a moan. ‘Kiss me, _Hank_ ,’ he asked, clenching his body around Hank’s cock.

He let Connor set the pace, using his body for his own enjoyment, merciless in his chase of pleasure. ‘Hank…I’m going to…it’s overwhelming, I don’t know if I can again…’ Connor sobbed, hips swaying in a wide circle.

‘Yes you can,’ Hank promised, hand on Connor’s ass encouraging him down, searching for that spot.

‘There!’ Connor shouted, legs wrapping around Hank’s hips,

‘There?’ Hank asked, making sure his thrusts nailed the spot over and over, panting heavily against Connor’s mouth.

‘Please, please, please,’ Connor chanted, hands tangling in Hank’s hair.

‘I’m not gonna last much longer,’ Hank gasped, fighting his orgasm, determined to make Connor come. Wrapping one hand around Connor’s neglected cock, he stroked his thumb over the weeping head, moaning as Connor’s movements became sloppy, trusting Hank to keep moving.

‘Come inside me,’ Connor demanded, his grip on Hank bordering on excruciating. ‘Hank, please, fuck.’ Connor’s chest smacked into his as another orgasm shot through him. White bled into the corners of his vision as Connor clamped around his cock, forcing his orgasm from him.

Stretching up to touch his forehead to Connor’s, Hank wheezed through the aftermath, sated, exhausted.

‘I love you,’ he said over and over, taking Connor’s silence as him processing things. He stroked over his cheeks with his nose, keeping them joined, basking in the feeling of being close.

After long minutes had passed, Connor began to move, lifting himself up and wincing as Hank slid free.

‘You okay, sweetheart?’

Nodding, Connor collapsed onto the bed. ‘Can I ask you for something?’

‘Hmm?’ Hank hummed, stroking Connor’s skin, feeling a perverse pleasure at how soaked Connor was in his come. ‘You need some Thirium?’ he took an educated guess.

‘Please?’ Connor blinked up at him, his voice still not quite right. This was probably the closest Connor could come to exhausted and Hank shook his head, getting to his feet.

‘You’ve got me wrapped around your little finger,’ he grumbled, searching around for his boxers.

‘Does that mean I can ask for another round in the morning?’ Connor shot straight back.

‘Whipped. I’m whipped.’ Lumbering down to the kitchen, he confiscated Sumo’s toy for the night before he swiped a pack of Thirium, stopping by the bathroom to clean himself up. Connor hadn’t moved from where he’d left him, gazing up at the ceiling in thought.

Hank helped him sit up against the headboard, letting him gulp down the Thirium as he cleaned his body with the wet towel he’d brought in from the bathroom.

‘How you feeling? Need anything else?’ Hank asked, stroking his hand over Connor’s side, dropping the towel to the floor. 

‘I need to go into status,’ Connor informed him when he’d finished the pack, handing it over to Hank.

‘You’re tired in other words. I’ve still got it,’ Hank laughed, tugging Connor’s pliant body close, his head resting on Hank’s chest. They nestled together, Hank listening to the rain lashing the windows, Connor’s steady rise and fall of his breathing. Trailing his fingers in swirling patterns over Connor’s back, he linked paths between his freckles, loving how imperfect his skin was.

‘Flaws make me appear more human,’ Connor spoke, almost sounding sleepy.

‘The flaws in your personality are more attractive. It makes you genuine, real.’ Hank didn’t say anything more, heading towards sleep, comforted by the weight of Connor in his arms, his body exhausted.

‘Con? You sleeping?’

‘…no,’ Connor answered after a moment, shifting in his arms.

‘What were you thinking about? Walking in the rain?’

‘I was assessing my feelings towards you, whether I was ready to be intimate with you. The future of us.’

They’d never discussed the future. Hank tightened his hold, horrified at the prospect of one day leaving Connor behind, not only because he’d have to fend for himself in this crappy world, but because of the agony of grief Hank was already acquainted with.

‘I didn’t get a choice about my lifespan, without injury I could, theoretically live forever. I don’t think I want that, Hank. Maybe one day in the future I’ll change my mind, but right now, I know I don’t want to live forever.’

‘Con, even after I’m gone there’s still so much for you to see and do. You could change the world for your people rather than settling for this small piece with me.’

Hank felt the touch to his cheek, allowed his head to be moved down to face Connor’s earnest gaze.

‘Hank, I won’t deny that you’re a huge part of my thoughts, but this decision isn’t only because of you. My life doesn’t have any meaning if it can never end.’ Giving Hank a clumsy kiss, Connor settled back down, stretching like a cat as Hank cupped the back of his neck, protecting his vulnerable spot.

‘I don’t think you need to decide just now, sweetheart. Let’s just…take each day as it comes.’

***

‘Pass me the doughnuts over would ya?’ Hank asked, not looking up from doing a final, _final_ check over his report, groping Connor’s desk as he searched. It was his reward for finishing this bitch of a case, a celebratory hit of sugar for the iron-clad evidence he had against his suspect.

The motherfucker was going away for a l _ong_ time.

When no doughnut was forthcoming, Hank glanced up, bewildered that Connor’s chair was empty.

‘Your plastic toy is over there,’ Reed motioned as he walked past, swiping Hank’s doughnut, and biting into it obnoxiously. He swore as something flicked off his head, whirling around to glare at Connor and Chris looking at him innocently.

‘Did you just fucking _throw_ something at me!’ Reed snarled, throwing the doughnut onto Connor’s desk.

‘Really Detective Reed? Have we resorted to baseless accusations now?’ Connor asked.

‘Haven’t you got work or something to do?’ Reed shouted. ‘Stop wasting all our time with these teenage pranks.’

‘All my cases are up to date, but I’m happy to help you start on yours? Who knows, it might prevent you from receiving another disciplinary note on your permanent file?’

Hank folded his arms and observed as the officers sniggered under their breath, watching Reed storm out of the room. Meeting Connor’s gaze, Hank smiled as Connor winked and turned back to whatever it was he’d been doing with Chris.

Things were good.

He still attended his AA meetings, still saw his therapist once a fortnight, crimes were still committed and needed solving. He glanced up as he heard Connor laugh, amazed at how much his life had changed in the past year.

There would always be a gaping hole in his soul that Cole had left behind, and he couldn’t quite smooth out all the grouchy, prickly aspects of his personality, but Hank had learnt that it was too easy to become obsessed with loss, with what you didn’t have. Even after the worst and most excruciating experience of his life, he’d still found a small measure of happiness from the goofy android sent by CyberLife.

Life was about finding your own little corner of the world and carving yourself a space to live in. Looking up at Connor, Hank knew he’d finally found his.

**The End**

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